


Of Your Complexion

by JudysCarrotPen (toriels_sock_drawer)



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: AU, Bi-Curiosity, Comedy, Confusion and Hilarity, Crossdressing, F/M, Fluff, Identical Twins, Mistaken Identity, No set time period, Shipwreck, Swordfighting, Twelfth Night AU, alcohol use, beta reading is for wiMPs, drunken escapades, shakespeare au, this is shakespeare what else would you expect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8266084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toriels_sock_drawer/pseuds/JudysCarrotPen
Summary: Identical twins Jack and Judy Hopps are sailing towards the land of Terrafossida, when their ship gets wrecked in a violent storm. With her brother presumed dead, Judy washes ashore the island of Zootopia, where a melodramatic and lovestruck duke by the name of Nicholas Wilde lives. She decides to present herself as a boy to the duke in order to earn a job serving him, but things take a turn for chaos when she is tasked to court his love interest--a cold and distant duchess--while at the same time, falling for her master.(A loose retelling of the Shakespearean play Twelfth Night through the characters of Zootopia. This is NOT written in Shakespearean verse, but it holds many of the plot points of the play. Basically, if you like Shakespeare, and if you like Zootopia, this is for you.)





	1. The Tempest

     The sea was tethered calm. The weary wind softly flitted through the air, lightly brushing the tips of the deep blue ridges, spilling the edges over and into each other. The silky night sky hung dark and soft, the stars softly pricking through the nocturnal fabric as if they were needle points. The large passenger ship  _ S.S. Gazelle  _ quietly sifted through the waters, set on its course towards the Isle of Meadowsaven, located off the coast of Terrafossida.

     Although the night had long since begun, the members on the ship were far from asleep. A night of festivities had filtered raucous and gaudy through the mammals onboard, and no one was left unaffected. A night of singing and dancing had taken place; a costume party, to be precise. Animals had adorned themselves in masks and gowns, pirate gear and fairy wings, a confusing world of joy and wonder.

     The alcohol only fueled the frenzy.

     Sadly, the night was coming to a close. As the 3-piece band on deck slowly squeezed out a Spanish ballad, only a few couples remained on the dance floor. Mammals were slowly stumbling down the stairs to their cabins, and the lanterns hanging above the deck were slowly being put out, one by one.

     The door of a small cabin that sat on the starboard side of the ship suddenly burst open, and a small gray rabbit--the left side of them dressed and painted as a woman, the right side dressed and painted as a man--stumbled inside, wielding a bottle of Yak Daniel’s in his paw. A burst of laughter came from outside, and a second gray rabbit--almost identical to the first, with genders on opposite sides--slowly swaggered in, clutching their stomach. The first one let out a chuckle, bracing themself against the wall.

_      “--a great while ago the world begun, with a hey, ho--” _

_      “--the wind and the rain!” _

     The cabin door closed behind them, and the first one collapsed on the bed. The second plopped down at the desk in the corner. They lit the lamp above the mirror and grabbed a damp rag sitting in a bucket.

     “Y’know this--this black paint is pretty good, it looks pretty real…”

     “Really?” the one on the bed asked. “You think people...y’ think they liked it?”

     “Oh, they  _ loved  _ it, they thought it-it was  _ awesome  _ they--they co--they couldn’t tle--th--oh my  _ god. _ ”

     The first one burst into laughter. The second snorted and held their face in their paws. The first took a gasp of air.

     “A-and you say  _ you  _ have a higher tolerance than me…”

     “I do!” the second exclaimed, “I had to hold your arm on the way back down here, you--you almost flipped overboard like, twice!”

     “In my defence--” the first said, “The ship was rocking like  _ crazy. _ The waves were all over the place…”

     “What are you talking about?” asked the second, rubbing the black stripes off their cheek with the rag, “The sea’s completely calm right now, it’s like--baby waves.”

     The first collapsed into a sudden bout of giggles. The second smirked at them.

     “...W--What? Whatisit?”

     “With the--wi-- _ baby waves…” _

     The second rolled their eyes and tossed the rag to the one on the bed. It smacked them in the face, which prompted another another round of giggling. The second clutched their stomach, wheezing.

     “Jack, I’m--I’m sorry, I dinnmean to hityouinth--the--”

     “...Ih was juss  _ so funny _ …”

     The second stood out of their chair and snatched the bottle from Jack’s hand. He lazily clamped a paw on the rag and began to rub the left side of his cheek, revealing more black stripes underneath. He sighed.

     “This--this stuff worked too, it really covered itup…hey...hey Judy…”

     “Mmm?”

     “Am I a pretty lady?”

     “Mmhmm…”

     Jack looked over to see his sister’s lips glued to the rim of the bottle, chugging it’s contents at an unbelievable pace. His eyes popped out of his head.

     “Whoa, w-hey, slow down man! That’s like--that’s like four shots, right there!”

     Judy broke away and smacked her lips triumphantly. She slammed the bottle down on top of the desk and with an air of cockiness, threw her arms up victoriously. There was a beat.

     Suddenly, an enormous belch erupted from her.

     The two of them fell into laughter. Jack covered his face with his hands, his bouncing shoulders causing his bed to shake. Judy lightly pounded her fist on the desk, taking quick gasps for air. After an eternity, they both took a deep breath and sank into themselves.

     “I told you I’ve gotta higher tolerance.”

     Jack snorted and rolled over on his side.

     “I’m just dreading t’morrow morning.”

     “Oof! Don’ even mention…”

     Jack tossed the rag across the room and into the bucket. Judy began to take off her costume.

     “You sure our uncle’s gonna be okay with us just kinda...droppin’ in on ‘im like this?”

     Jack rolled his head towards her and cocked an eyebrow.

     “...wu--who? Eli?”

     “Uh, psh, yeah, who else?”

     “I--yeah, I th--he’ll-- _ okay. _ ”

     Jack sat up on his elbows and cleared his throat. He took a moment to reaffirm his balance on the mattress.

     “I think it’s gonnabeokay,” he mumbled. “Like, he’s a pretty laid back guy, you know, he knows we can take care of ourselves, and like--it’s not like he hasn’t got any room for us, right? The guy owns an estate, practically.”

     “No that’s--that’s exactly what he owns,” Judy said, “I jus wonder if he’ll remember us.”

     “Uh...yeah, I-I think he’ll--yeah.”

     Judy stifled another burp, and threw a nightshirt over her head. She snickered at Jack on the bed, still split in half between genders.

     “You just gonna sleep like that?”

     “What, like it matters?”

     Judy chuckled and reached for the bottle. Her paw fumbled with air, and she looked down at the desk. The bottle was sliding down towards the edge of the table, and she quickly caught it. Jack let out a sharp gust of air through his nose.

     “Nice,” he said, “You still got your reflexes--”

     Suddenly, the floor shifted, and Judy stumbled back and was caught by the wall. Jack began to slide off the bed and caught himself with his paw.

     “Geez, is the captain drunk, too?”

     Judy peaked out the window to see the once calm waves now cutting up into the air, edges sharp and jagged. Droplets of rain carved into the glass of the window, tracing dark streaks in Judy’s reflection. She frowned.

     “Huh...I guess the wind’s picked up a bit...”

     “Is it--is it raining?”

     “Yeah, pretty hard--”

     The floor lurched, and Judy was thrown onto the bed. Jack slid and slammed into the wall, hard. The creaking of the floorboards pierced into the air, and the gravity began to sway once more. Jack grabbed on to Judy’s wrist as the weight shifted back towards the window, and he watched as the chair slid into the desk. The bottle slid off and shattered on the floor. Judy cursed under her breath.

     “We gotta get that lamp out.”

     Judy quickly stumbled towards the lamp above the mirror and extinguished it. Jack quickly sat up on his bed.

     “Careful,” he said, “Don’t cut open your foot or anything--”

     Suddenly, an ear-splitting groan tore through the air above them, followed by a loud, crisp,  **_crack_ ** . The floor quickly balanced itself, tossing Judy to the ground and into the side of the bed, and throwing Jack back into the wall. There was a silence for a moment.

     Suddenly, there was a tremendous splash outside their window.

     Judy quickly jumped up and dashed to the window. Jack stood up from the bed, pulling at his shirt.

     “What the hell was that?”

     Jack walked up behind Judy and peeked over her shoulder. They both went silent.

     The mast of the boat--sails still attached--was bobbing in the sea right outside, its jagged and splintered end standing out of the water like a wooden obelisk.

     Voices began to call from above, quickly followed by frantic footsteps. Judy and Jack quickly looked at each other, and they immediately threw open the cabin door and dashed up the stairs.

* * *

     Jack and Judy stumbled up onto the lurching deck, bracing themselves from the rain with their sleeves. Deckhands were dashing back and forth, pulling on ropes and pushing cargo across the deck. The air was alive with shouts of commands and spiteful remarks. The waves were beginning to thrash and push against the boat, some of the water spilling over the railing and onto the floorboards beneath their feet. Jack and Judy looked up at a drenched wolf quickly approaching them.

     “What are--it’s not safe for you two to be up here, you need to go back down below deck!”

     “What’s going on?” Jack shouted through the wind, “What happened?”

     “It’ll all be explained in a moment, just--you need to go below, right now!”

     A wave suddenly crashed over the side of the boat, spraying them in foam. They quickly braced themselves with their arms. The wolf quickly shook himself dry and began to push them backwards.

     “You need to go, both of you! Now!”

     There was a sudden chorus of shouts from the stern of the boat. The three of them looked out to see a wall of water quickly approaching them. The frosted top curled over and pounded onto the tip of the boat. A cascade of black serpents washed down the deck, knocking every mammal in its path to the ground. The wolf quickly grabbed hold of Judy and reached for Jack, but suddenly, they were enveloped in water.

     The sound of rushing water filled Judy’s ears, and all she saw was blue. She could feel it tugging at her, desperately trying to sweep her away, but the strong arm around her waist was holding strong in opposition. The air had been sucked out of her lungs almost immediately, and she could feel them screaming at her for more. Suddenly, her head broke into the air, and the sounds of the sea and the rain and the wind and the animals once again exploded into her ears. She gasped for air, and she quickly grabbed onto the wolf’s arm.

     “It’s alright, I’ve got you! You’re okay--”

     “Jack, where’s-- _ Jack!” _

     Judy desperately looked around her. Jack was nowhere to be seen. The deck was covered in specks of wood and seaweed, and mammals were sprawled on their backs all across. She looked back towards the bow, and she saw a small gray figure hunched over on all fours. He coughed up some water, and gave a weak look back to Judy.

_      “JACK!” _

_      “...JUDY!” _

     A wave crashed down between them, and splintering wood was sent spewing into the air. The stern of the boat tipped upwards, and Judy’s feet slipped out from under her. The wolf tightened his grip, and the deck lowered from beneath her feet. She looked up to see the wolf holding onto the edge of a shard of the mast, his feet dangling over the open sea as well. Judy looked back up to see the other half of the ship broken off, the bow beginning to point skyward. She watched helplessly as Jack began to slide into the sea below.

_      “NO!” _

     There was a noise above her, and Judy looked up just in time to see a crate plummeting towards them. The wooden shard snapped, and Judy was suddenly in the air, and all went black as her head hit the water.


	2. News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The duke Nicholas Wilde receives word from his soon-to-be love.  
> (At least, so he thinks)

     Finnick hated being the barer of bad news.

_      Especially  _ with Nick.

     As he walked up the pavement to the large mansion nestled in the trees, he tried to think of a way to present himself to Nick that would keep his pay from getting docked. Nick was a moody little jerk, and absolutely unpredictable. It was always best to prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Finnick, through experience, had learned this the hard way.

     He trudged up the steps of the porch, and the servant at the door let him through. Finnick sighed.

     “Thanks, Travis…”

     He continued into the front alcove, walked past the large, white, marble stairs, and swam into the hall on the right. He walked past the library, the billiards parlor, the dining room...it was amazing how easy it was to get lost in this place.

     Good God, what was he going to say to Nick?

     He took a left into a smaller hallway adorned in a vaguely striped wallpaper. At the end was the door to the living room, where he could hear the distant sound of music playing. Standing just outside it was a Honey Badger. She was in uniform--black vest with gold embroidery, starched white collar, pristine gloves--and she eyed Finnick down with an air of panic.

     “Hey!” she whispered, “What’s the news? Did you talk to her?”

     Finnick shook his head disdainfully, pinching his brow.

     “No? Why not?”

     “Her butler,” he said, “I talked to her butler, and he said--”

     “What?” the badger asked, “Is it good?”

     “No,” he groaned, shaking his head, “No, it’s not, she--oh god--”

     “Geez,  _ that bad? _ ”

     “It’s bad.”

     “What did he tell you?” she asked, “That she doesn’t feel the same way? That she’s already engaged? That he should just shove it and go to hell?”

     “No, no! Just--just listen,” Finnick said, yanking Honey closer to him, “It’s--It’s complicated, alright? It’s complicated. Basically...okay. Her--her brother died last month. Remember? Fell backwards off the balcony.”

     Honey winced. “Yeah,” she said, “I heard about that.”

     “Okay, yeah, well...” he continued, “...She took it pretty hard.”

     “Well, as she sould.”

     “Like... _ real  _ hard,” Finnick said. “The butler said that...okay, he said that she’s gonna be in mourning for a while.”

     “Oh, okay,” Honey said, “So he’s just gotta wait it out?”

     “Yeah, but…”

     “But what?”

     “Honey, she’s going into mourning for  _ seven years-- _ ”

_      “WHAT?” _

     Finnick quickly shushed her, and they turned their heads to the closed door behind them. The muffled sound of music filtered through, soft and flitting. Honey looked back down at Finnick.

_      “Seven years?” _

     “Yeah,” Finnick said, “No contact with anybody. I don’t know if she’s just overreacting, or if she just doesn’t wanna deal with him, or--I don’t know, it’s just he’s…”

     “He’s gonna throw a fit.”

     “Exactly,” Finnick growled. “And I’m not gonna be the one taking a hit because of it.”

     “Well...don’t look at  _ me, _ ” Honey said, “I’m not the one who went out there, right? I’m not involved with this.”

     “By hell you aren’t!” Finnick hissed, “I told you the whole thing, now you know just as much about it! You’re gonna walk in there with me and take half of it!”

     “Oh, listen here, you little--”

     Honey’s elbow bumped into the door, sending it gliding open. The two of them whipped their heads around and looked inside.

     A large gramophone sat on the dresser near the French doors, pumping out a peaceful, strolling melody. The warm breeze filtering in through the doors and the windows caused the white silk curtains to lazily dance above the floor, placing the room into a solemn loveliness. On the large, ornate couch--still dressed in his nightrobes--was Nick. He was splayed on his back, his right arm sticking out above him like a pin in a cushion, and his left leg hung lazily off the side of the couch, his toes tracing half-conscious circles in the air. He was staring off into space.

     Honey and Finnick eyed the other servants in the room nervously. The bobcat standing next to the gramophone feigned a shrug. Suddenly, Honey and Finnick snapped to attention, and Finnick lightly closed the door behind him. There was a brief silence.

     Honey cleared her throat.

     “Uh, sir--”

_      “If music be the food of love--” _ Nick interrupted with a passionate drone, _ “--play on…” _

     Finnick and Honey eyed each other. They slowly looked back up at Nick.

     “I’m--I’m sorry?”

     “Isn’t it beautiful?” Nick asked. “It’s amazing what music can do to the emotions. Just through some simple waves entering the ears, one can feel the same sensations of joy, disdain, rage... _ love _ ...it’s quite magical, really.”

     There was a beat. Honey adjusted her collar.

     “Uh...yes, it is, sir--” she said. “Now, we have news of--”

     “Ooh!” Nick suddenly cried out, raising a finger into the air, “Rewind that, play that part again...”

     The bobcat quickly raised the needle from the record and inched it backwards.

     “It’s this beautiful melodic arc, it has this swell in it that’s just--oh, it’s beautiful…”

     The needle touched the record once more, and the tune began to pump out. Nick lazily conducted in the air with his finger, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed. Finnick rubbed the bridge of his nose. Honey stifled a cough.

     “Um--sir--”

     Nick quickly shushed her. They all stood there a while as the record played.

     All of a sudden, Nick sat up and flicked his paw at the gramophone.

     “Okay, turn it off.”

     “Off, sir?”

     “Yes, off. Turn it off. Forget it.” Nick repeated, rolling onto his stomach, “It didn’t sound as good the second time...”

     Nick plopped his head down onto the cushions with a grumble. The record lightly scratched as the bobcat once again raised the needle. Honey sighed and took a step further into the room.

_      “Sir,  _ I have  _ news  _ for you…”

     Nick groaned and lazily turned his head towards Honey. He frowned at her.

_      “What, _ Honey?”

     Honey opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She raised her eyebrows and slowly looked to Finnick.

     “...Well,” she began, “Finnick, here, just got back from the residence of...the-the Lady Skye, and--”

     Nick sat up quickly, his eyes wide. 

_      “He’s back?” _

     “Yes, he’s back.”

     “He’s  _ back… _ ” Nick repeated to himself, a half-whisper, “He’s back, he’s-- _ Finnick!” _

     Nick jumped to his feet and frantically climbed over the glass table that sat in front of the couch. He scrambled across the floor to the plush armchair on the other side, and he quickly threw himself over the back of it, toppling head over heels and landing on his rear. He rolled a couple inches across the floor to Finnick and firmly grabbed him by the shoulders.

     “What did she say?” he breathed, “What’s the news, big guy, did she accept?”

     Finnick leaned away from him and swallowed.

     “Uh…” he began, “I, uh...I got a response, that’s for sure--”

     “Good! Great! What was it?”

     “Uh, listen,” Finnick began, tugging at his collar, “I don’t know if you’re really gonna like it--”

     “That doesn’t matter, just tell me, buddy! Full disclosure!”

     “... _ Full disclosure? _ ”

     “ _ C’mon, _ Finnick!” Nick said, “We’re friends, right? You can be open with me, you can tell me the truth! Just--for once, don’t even think about what I wanna hear, just tell me! What did she say?”

     Finnick stared at him long and hard. After a moment, he took a deep breath.

     “Alright,” he said, “I’ll tell you the truth.”

     “Yes!” Nick said, “Great! Tell me!”

     “Okay,” said Finnick. “I was told, that due to the recent passing of her brother, the lady Skye has decided to go into a period of mourning. This will last for seven years, where she is to have contact no contact with anyone...including but not limited to  _ you, _ Nick.”

     Nick’s smile had disappeared. He looked at Finnick for a long time, silent. After a moment, he slowly stood up and walked back towards the couch.

     “Nick, c’mon, you told me to tell you the truth--”

     “No, Finnick, this is…”

     “What?” Finnick asked. “Look, I know that this isn’t what you wanted to hear, but I don’t know what else you--”

     “No, this is...this fine…”

     The servants in the room slowly turned their gaze towards Nick, standing in front of his couch. A confused silence hung in the air. Finnick cocked his head.

     “I beg your pardon?”

     “This is...fine…” Nick said, slowly turning towards him. “This is fine!”

     “O-okay,” Honey said, “What’s with the sudden change of heart?”

     “No no no, don’t you get it?” Nick said, a glint forming in his eye, “This is  _ wonderful! _ This is the best news I could’ve gotten!”

     Finnick raised an eyebrow. “Wh... _ how?” _

     “C’mon, Finnick, you’re not thinking!” Nick said, jumping onto the couch, “Use that head of yours, it’s practically twice the size of your body!”

_      “Excuse  _ me?”

     “Her brother dies,” Nick started, “And she is so overcome with grief that she goes into mourning. Seven years, Finnick,  _ seven years! _ You said it yourself! Don’t you realize what that means?”

     “...She’s...gonna run outta black clothes to wear?” Honey suggested.

     “No!” Nick piped, “It means--look. She loved her brother  _ so much,  _ that his death put her into a mourning period of  _ seven years. _ That right there is complete, unbridled love; that’s devotion like no one has ever  _ seen!” _

     Finnick and Honey gave each other an apprehensive glance.

     “What are you insinuating?”

     “Don’t you get it?!” Nick shouted, tossing his arms above his head, “If she has that much love to give--to a  _ brother,  _ mind you--if she has that much to give, just...just  _ imagine _ the amount that she’ll give to  _ me! _ ”

     There was a moment of silence. Finnick raised a paw to his face and rubbed his eyes.

     “Oh my god--”

     “It’s  _ perfect! _ ” Nick shouted. He began to dance and bounce on the couch cushions. “It’s the best news of my life! This day could not get any--the garden! One of you, fetch me some flowers from the garden! They should be perfectly in bloom, their colors will be vibrant--just like the music, the sensations--quick, someone! Before the moment passes…”

     A deer standing by the French doors quickly came forward and cracked them further. He quickly slipped out and onto the lawn, the curtains almost trailing behind him. Nick sat back down on the couch and spread his arms across the back, his head resting on the edge. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling.

     “This is outstanding,” Nick said. “Finnick, remind me to up your pay.”

     “Definitely.”

     Honey shot him a glare. Finnick smirked at her. 

     Suddenly, Nick hopped back up to his feet with purpose.

     “No,” he said, “I’ll go myself. Catmull, get me my robe, will you?”

     Nick reached under the table and pulled out a pair of house slippers. He stood up and slipped his feet into them, oblivious to the awkward stares from around the room. He reached his arms back, ready to receive the robe from behind.

     He stood there for a while, unmoving.

     “Catmull.”

     Silence.

     “...Catmull?”

     Nick glanced behind him, then turned around to face empty space. He looked around the room, confused.

     “Where’s--where’s Catmull?”

     Honey cleared her throat and and clasped her paws in front of her. “Well,” she said, “You fired him, sir.”

     Nick looked at Honey, an annoyed frown plastered on his face. After a brief pause, he spoke.

     “Why the hell did I do that?”

     “I dunno, sir.”

     “He was my page, my--he helped me with my dressing, and--”

     “I know.”

     Nick glanced around the room once more, back to the Catmull-shaped piece of air behind him, and then finally back to Honey, the same grimace on his face.

     “...Well I’ll be damned...”

     Nick let his arms fall to his sides, and he stared pensively out the doors. Finnick and Honey exchanged looks. Suddenly, Nick started for the door.

     “Send out a notice.”

     “A...a notice?” Finnick asked.

     “Or something,” Nick said. “Just...let people know that there’s a position open.”

     Nick sauntered out onto the lawn, clad in his pajamas and slippers, and headed towards the garden. Finnick and Honey watched him in tired disbelief as he spun a lazy circle around himself, his arms splayed outwards and his lovestruck smile to the sky.

_      “So full of shapes is fancy,”  _ Finnick muttered sarcastically to Honey,  _ “that it alone is high fantastical.” _


	3. Sea unto Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy finds herself in a strange new place...

     Judy’s eyes tore open.

     Her lungs sucked in a gallon of air, and she quickly sat up. Her eyes took a moment to focus. The blobs of light slowly formed into the sky, stretching into the distance, that faded into the ocean. She looked down to see her legs still laying in the water, the sand pressing beneath her. She was still wearing her sleepwear.

     She quickly whipped her head around. Before her was a beach, the sand as white as paper. Erupting from the sand towered an immense cliff, covered in vines and leaves. Judy began to scan the coastline, and she saw pieces of wood washing upon the sand. She slowly noticed that there were more mammals peppered along the beach, half-enveloped in the water.

     “Miss Hopps!”

     Judy looked to her left to see the wolf from before dashing towards her. She quickly stood up, her wet clothes sticking to her fur. She stumbled out of the shallow water and onto the sand.

     “What...what happened--”

     “The whole ship went down,” he said, brushing his wet fur out of his eyes, “We’ve washed up here, I don’t know how many of us--”

     “Wait, where is--where are we?”

     The wolf sighed and rubbed his neck.

     “I believe,” he began, “That this is the Isle of...the Isle of Zootopia. Either that, or it could be one of the channel islands...”

     “Wait...where’s Jack?” she asked. “My brother, have you--have you seen my brother?”

     The wolf looked at her for a moment. He swallowed.

     “Miss...it’s a _miracle_ that you’re here...let alone any of us…so--so I wouldn’t...”

     Judy’s heart plunged into her stomach. She could feel her arms and legs beginning to grow cold, and her eyes began to blur with tears. Daggers tore at her throat as she felt her knees buckle and hit the sand beneath her.

     “No, no, there’s gotta be a--he _can’t,_ he has to--what if he--”

     “It’s possible,” the wolf said, kneeling next to her. “That he’s still alive. Before we drifted out, I thought I saw him clinging to the mast of the ship. It may not have been him, but--”

     “So he’s alive?” Judy asked “He’s okay?”

     “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s possible. But I can’t say for sure.”

     A voice called from behind. They looked towards the edge of the beach to see an otter in naval garb desperately trying to drag an unconscious lion out of the water. Judy and the wolf quickly took off down the beach.

* * *

     “Remind me-- _hrngh_ \--of your name.”

 _“Snarlov,”_ the wolf breathed, _“Eli Snarlov.”_

     “Right, _Snarlov_ …”

     With one more shove, the two of them pressed the trunk up against the rest of the supplies and furniture the team of castaways had plucked from the water. Mammals were milling back and forth on the beach--tending to injuries, taking stock of the items salvaged, moving trunks and boxes--it was as if the circus had arrived from the sea.

     Snarlov and Judy collapsed against the passenger trunk with a sigh, breathing heavily. Judy wiped her brow.

     “Zootopia,” she said off-handedly.

     “ _Isle of,_ yes.”

     “How do you know this place?” Judy asked.

     “Well,” Snarlov began, “I grew up not too far from here; if you go to the east corner of the island--right now we’re at the north, I think--right across from it, there’s a slightly smaller island by the name of Elkenfreid. I’ve sailed across to visit here many times.”

     “Then tell me,” Judy said, “What is there here? I take it that we aren’t going much of anywhere for awhile...not until we get another ship, at least.”

     “Exactly,” said Snarlov. “We’ll have to pool some money in order to buy parts, we’ll need some carpenters...could take _months…_ ”

     “Who lives here?” Judy asked. “Anyone important?”

     “Well, here’s the thing,” Snarlov said, scratching his head. “This island is full of a bunch of arrogant, wealthy mammals...namely, predators...and to be quite honest, not a lot happens here.”

     Judy sighed. Her ears rested at her sides, and she let herself sink into the trunk for a moment. Suddenly, she turned her head to Snarlov.

     “I wanna help,” she said. “You need money for this new boat? I’m gonna help pay for it. I’ll be on it anyways, right?”

     “That’s very generous,” Snarlov said, “But not necessary. I’m sure we can find you a place to stay--”

     “I _know_ it’s not necessary,” Judy retaliated. “I want to help. Is there any one of these mammals that I can work for, that I--be a dresser, a maid, I can--I can cook---”

     “I don’t know,” Snarlov said, looking up towards the sky. “The only one that comes to mind--no, that-that wouldn’t…”

     Snarlov slowly stood up and brushed the sand off of his legs. Judy quickly jumped up, her eyes locked on him.

     “What?” she asked. “Who is it?”

     Snarlov opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a moment. He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

     “There’s a duchess,” he said, “A vixen, down on the South End...people call her the Lady Skye. I would suggest her, but there’s this whole thing going on…”

     “What? What thing?”

     “There’s--alright,” Snarlov began, turning towards Judy, “She’s in mourning. Her father passed last year, and her brother followed a couple months later. She’s decided to stay in mourning for seven years.”

_“Seven?”_

     “I know, it’s superfluous,” he said. “She’s refusing to see everyone--and I mean, _everyone_ \--so she’s not gonna be very open to seeing you for a job.”

     “She’s seeing _nobody?_ ” Judy asked incredulously. “Surely she’s opening up to _someone…_ ”

     “Nope,” said Snarlov. “Not even the only other fox on the island...you know, you’d think she’d find some solace in him or something, as they’re the same species, you know--and he’s absolutely crazy for her, too--”

     “Who?” Judy asked, “Who is this?”

     “The fox?”

     “Yeah.”

     Snarlov chuckled to himself, pinching the bridge of his muzzle. He wiped his hand down his face and locked eyes with Judy.

     “Nicholas Wilde,” he said. “Eccentric is an understatement. This guy has more arrogance than an _opera singer_.”

     “Does he have any open positions?” Judy asked.

     “Well, I mean--I’m sure he does, he could find someplace for you…” Snarlov said. “It would just be harder for you to find a job with him, because…”

     Judy looked at him for a moment, then raised an eyebrow.

     “Because _what?_ ”

     “Well...because you’re a female,” Snarlov muttered, “And don’t take that the wrong way; If I hadn’t known you before, I would’ve considered you another deckhand, the way you’ve been working, but...Mr. Wilde doesn’t have the most, uh... _fair_ view of women. He hires them, sure, but they are very few among his staff. One of the few he has, I know of, is ranked quite high among the staff, but only because Wilde knows her personally.”

     Judy let out a sigh of slight disgust, and defeatedly looked of towards the water. She shook her head.

     “So what you’re saying,” Judy said, “Is that I’d have better luck as a man.”

     Snarlov stared at her for a moment, the gears behind his eyes turning.

     “Well…” he said slowly, “Yes. I-I guess...though that’s not quite what I was insinuating…”

     “But that’s what that means, right?”

     “Sure. You would...have more luck as a man. That sort of goes without saying…”

     Judy stood up and walked around the pile of crates and trunks that had been gathered. She began to rummage between them, looking at names still painted on the damp wood. Snarlov cocked his head.

     “What are you doing?”

     “Hold on, I think I might have seen…”

     Judy latched onto one of the trunks, and with a grunt, she dragged it out from under the pile, sending a couple of the crates toppling over each other. She wiped off some droplets of water over the name _‘Hopps’_. Then, she kneeled in front of the latch and popped it open, revealing soggy clothes and ruined books. She rummaged around inside, tossing the contents over her shoulder and into the sand behind her.

     “Uh, Miss Hopps?” Snarlov said hesitantly, “Would you like some assistance?”

     “I’ve got it…”

     Suddenly, from under a pile of rags, Judy pulled out a round glass jar, its cork slightly swollen with water. It was filled two-thirds of the way with black fur paint. Judy turned and looked at Snarlov.

     “If I need to be a man,” she said, “Then so be it. I’ll disguise myself as a man in order to secure a job.”

     “Miss Hopps--”

     “This isn’t up for discussion!” Judy said, rising to her feet, “It’s the least I can do! Listen, Mr. Snarlov, you _saved my life,_ the _least_ I can do is help to rebuild this ship.”

     “That’s very thoughtful of you,” Snarlov said, “But you don’t have to, really. And even if you want to, you could find a job where they would be more likely to take you as a woman--”

     “How well does Mr. Wilde pay his servants?”

     “Um...he does pay them quite well...actually, he probably pays them the best out of every other mammal on the island--”

     “Well I think it’s settled, then,” Judy said, placing her paws on her hips. “I’ll go to him, I’ll get a job, and I’ll send the money back to you and your crew.”

     Snarlov looked at Judy long and hard. After a while, he sighed.

     “Are you sure?”

     Judy’s shoulders rolled back, and her chin slowly rose upwards.

     “Yes.”

     Snarlov stared tiredly at Judy. He let out a soft chuckle and rubbed his eye.

     “I-I don’t know how to thank you for this…”

     “...I do,” Judy said.

     Snarlov looked up at her.

     “How?”

     “Promise not to talk about this,” said Judy, “To _anyone_. Nobody can know about this.”

     Snarlov nodded. “Of course not,” he said.

     “Good,” Judy said. “That’s all I need.”

     Judy presented her paw to him. Snarlov instinctively held it by the fingers and began to lower his lips to the back of it. Judy pulled her hand away.

     “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m a man now, remember?”

     A slow grin appeared across Snarlov’s face as Judy held out her paw once more. He grabbed her palm firmly and gave it a solid shake.

     “Yes sir.”


	4. Knavish in Manner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunken knights can be quite the ordeal.

     The Sun room of the house resided on the northern side. It was completely constructed out of panels of glass, forming a large, transparent gazebo that was constantly bathed in light. A comfortable set of couches and chairs sat around a mahogany table, a tea set placed on top. The sun reflected off of the white tile floor, placing the room on a different physical plane than the rest of the house.

     The door burst open and a tall, slightly disheveled lion stepped inside. He was awkwardly thumbing a flask back into his jacket pocket. He began to carefully stumble towards the table.

     “I just don’t understand why she’s making it  _ such  _ a  _ big deal _ ,” he said over his shoulder, “Like, it’s just her brother.  _ Seven years? _ Please!”

     “Don’t you go changing the subject!” a small voice called from behind him. A lamb bustled into the room, adjusting the horn-rimmed glasses on her nose. “However long your niece decides to mourn, she may. But your recent endeavors with--”

     “Oh, please,” he said, placing himself in one of the furnished chairs, “I’d rather not talk about it…”

     “No!” Bellwether piped, stomping her hoof on the tiles. “We  _ must! _ Sir Lionheart, you absolutely  _ can not  _ continue these habits! The gratuitous drinking, the returning to the house at the wee hours of the morning--”

     “ _ Wee hours? _ ” Lionheart snickered, “I will let you know that I returned at  _ 7 a.m. _ , Ms. Bellwether, I would not classify that as a  _ wee hour _ …”

     “It is absolutely unacceptable!” Bellwether continued, crossing her arms defiantly. “The Lady Skye herself has spoken against it!”

     “Aw, she really shouldn’t,” Lionheart said “Doesn’t she know that I--I drink to  _ her? _ She should feel grateful, honored…”

     Lionheart raised his feet to place them on the table, but Bellwether quickly smacked them away. Lionheart whined, and Bellwether quickly moved the tea set onto the couch.

     “But that’s just the beginning,” Bellwether said. “Don’t even get me  _ started _ on that...that absolute  _ buffoon _ of a knight that you’ve been bringing along to court her with…”

     “What, Sir Benjamin?” Lionheart asked.

     “Yes, Sir Benjamin. He’s an absolute idiot.”

     “Come on, now,” Lionheart sneered, straightening up in his chair, “Don’t say that! Sir Benjamin Clawhauser is an upright mammal if I’ve ever seen one! He...he makes three thousand ducats a year!”

     “And he spends it all  _ in  _ a year,” Bellwether snapped, “He can barely hold it in his paws without wasting it.”

     “He-he can--he plays the violin, he--can recite three or four languages word for word, without a dictionary--he’s the bravest mammal I’ve met--”

     Bellwether tilted her head back and let out a guffaw.

     “ _ The bravest mammal you’ve ever-- _ are you out of your  _ mind?! _ ” she said, clutching her stomach, “Sure, he can barely keep his sword in his sheath, but as soon as someone takes him up on one of his so-called  _ duels, _ he becomes about as brave as a house-cat!”

     There was the sound of claws lightly tapping on the glass.

     Lionheart and Bellwether turned to see a rotund cheetah with a wide-eyed grin on his face pressed up against the glass. He was wearing an expensive coat that draped over a nicely tailored forest green suit. A golden pocket watch dangled from one of the pockets. He held his hat underneath his arm, and his other paw was pressed up against the glass. He pulled it away and waved at the two of them enthusiastically.

     Bellwether and Lionheart hesitantly waved back.

     Clawhauser began to sidestep along the perimeter of the Sun Room, pushing up against the glass every inch or so. He kept reaching down near his left hip, as if he was trying to grasp an invisible doorknob. Lionheart tried to get his attention.

     “No, Benjamin, you have to--Clawhauser.  _ Clawhauser _ . There is no--you have to go  _ around  _ to get inside…”

     Clawhauser looked up to see Lionheart pointing towards the back porch. He looked over his shoulder, then back towards Lionheart. He pointed at it inquisitively.

     “Yes. That’s how you--how yougetin.”

     Clawhauser nodded his head and took off in the direction of the porch. Lionheart turned to Bellwether, chuckling.

     “Well,” he rasped, “Speak of the devil, am I right?”

     “Your niece said,” Bellwether began with a cold glare, “That if this behavior continues, she’ll have no choice but to kick you out.”

     “ _...Out? _ ” Lionheart asked, a blank expression on his face, “Out of  _ where _ ?”

_      “Here.” _

     “The Sun Room?”’

     “No, the property!” Bellwether snapped. “She told me herself. If you two don’t clean up your act, both of you are gonna be roaming the streets of Zootopia!”

     The door suddenly burst open.

     “Leodore Lionheart, you beautiful beast!”

     Lionheart and Bellwether turned to see Clawhauser at the door, his arms outstretched. Lionheart stood up with an excited growl.

     “Aw, Clawhauser, you son of a gun!”

     Lionheart grabbed Clawhauser around the waist and enthusiastically patted his back. Clawhauser giggled and squeezed him back.

     “How long has it been?” Clawhauser asked giddily.

     “11 o’clock last night.”

     “Well, time apart all the same, and time apart from you is absolutely  _ dreary… _ ”

     Clawhauser glanced over Lionheart’s shoulder at Bellwether standing next to the table, her arms crossed. Clawhauser cleared his throat and stood up straight.

     “And I don’t believe that  _ we  _ have met,” he said, straightening his collar.

     “Really?” Bellwether said, “Because I take it that you believe  _ a lot _ of things…”

_      “Accost, good sir,” _ Lionheart whispered in Clawhauser’s ear,  _ “Accost!” _

     “Oh! Of course…”

     Clawhauser lifted his hat over his head and took a grandiose bow, his toes raising up off the floor.

_      “Good Mistress Accost,”  _ he chanted theatrically,  _ “I desire better acquaintance.” _

     Bellwether stifled a smirk. “It’s  _ Bellwether,  _ sir,” she said through the corner of her mouth.

     “Oh!” Clawhauser said, quickly standing up, “I am so sorry, let me try that again…”

     Clawhauser took a step back and repeated the motions from before; the lifting of his hat, the grandiose bow, the toes rising from the floor…

_      “Good Mistress  _ Bellwether  _ Accost--” _

     “N--No, Clawhauser,” Lionheart wheezed, slapping his shoulder with a clumsy paw, “ _ Accost  _ is not her name, I meant  _ accost  _ her.”

_      “Accost  _ her?”

     “Yes, y-you know...woo her, seduce her, throw your honest self upon her!”

     Clawhauser’s eyes popped out of his head.

     “O...M... _ Goodness!” _ he said, raising his paws to his mouth. “Is that  _ really  _ what ‘accost’ means? If you wanted me to do  _ that, _ I’d wanna do it someplace more  _ private _ \--and make sure she’s okay with it, first--”

     “I’ll leave you two to your...affairs,” Bellwether snickered, marching out into the hallway.

     The door closed gently, leaving Lionheart and Clawhauser alone.

     “She seems real nice,” Clawhauser said, taking a seat. “Who was that, by the way?”

     “My niece’s chambermaid,” Lionheart grunted, pulling his flask from his coat pocket. “Three ounces of fiery rage.”

     “Oh, your niece, that reminds me,” Clawhauser said, holding the bridge of his muzzle with a paw, “Leo, I’ve think it’s about time I went back home.”

     Lionheart choked on his drink.

     “Wh-what?” he said, wiping his lips, “Why? I mean, so soon, you’ve--you’ve only been here for--”

     “Face it, Leo,” Clawhauser said, “Your niece refuses to see anybody...even me! You said that I should court her, and I thought it was a good idea, but I don’t think it’s possible now...especially with that other duke on the island. He’s been courting her for months now, and--and he’s a fox, too! He’s obviously more fit for her...and smarter, to say the least--”

     “Oh,  _ come _ now,” Lionheart said, waving a droopy paw at Clawhauser, “Don’t say that about yourself.”

     “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” Clawhauser asked. “I know I’m not the smartest--”

     “Nevertheless, don’t push yourself down like this,” Lionheart said, sitting up in his seat. “I’ll tell you right now, she does not see a  _ single thing  _ in that fox. She  _ despises _ him. If anything, that just gives you more luck!”

     “Are you...are you  _ sure? _ ”

     “Yeah!” said Lionheart. “Of course! And, let’s be honest for a second, he is not  _ nearly  _ as talented as you are. Can he speak different languages?”

     “Can he?”

     “No!” Lionheart said with an explosive gesture, “Of course not!  _ Il ne peut pas, mon ami! _ ”

     Clawhauser gave him a confused smile and mechanically nodded his head.

     “Yeah, _ il--ilmenepah, _ yeah…”

     “And he cannot play the violin, can he?”

     “He plays the--”

     “No, that’s--that’s what I’m saying, he  _ doesn’t _ .”

     “Why not?”

     “I--okay, nevermind, what I’m  _ saying _ is, you have exponentially more of a chance than he does in winning the heart of my niece.”

     Clawhauser slowly nodded to himself.

     “...Okay...I...I have more of a chance with...okay.”

     “Yes! You do! That’s--that’s why you should  _ stay, _ ” Lionheart said, leaning forward in his chair. “She needs someone here to help her through these rough and trying times. She needs someone to protect her from her feelings of grief and woe.”

     “We should find somebody then.” said Clawhauser, his brow furrowing.

     Lionheart chuckled heartily through tightly pursed lips, his paws balling up into fists.

     “That’s what I’m  _ saying, _ ” he said through clenched teeth. “Benjamin, we’ve found  _ you! _ ”

     Clawhauser stared at him for a moment, steam from his brain practically billowing out from his ears. Suddenly, his eyebrows shot up.

     “...Ohhhhhhhhhh,” he said, slowly raising a finger, “That’s right, there’s--there’s  _ me. _ ”

_      “Exactly!” _ Lionheart whispered. “Besides, who could ever resist such a, uh...such an experienced and talented...erm…”

     Clawhauser stared at him expectantly. Lionheart swallowed, fiddling with the cap of his flask. Suddenly, a thought hit him like a brick to the head. He slowly and gracefully sat up in his chair.

     “...such a wonderful  _ dancer… _ ”

     “...What?”

     “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never noticed before,” Lionheart gasped. “Haven’t you ever seen your  _ excellency in a galliard? _ ”

     “Well,” Clawhauser said, rubbing his neck bashfully, “I-I guess that  _ I can cut a caper.” _

_      “And I can cut the mutton to it!” _ Lionheart answered. “Why must you hide this beauty of movement from the world? If I had a fraction of the natural-born talent that you had, I would...b-burst into a jig with every step I took! You should be proud of the raw talent that you have, you were practically born a dancer--just take a look at those legs!”

     Clawhauser’s ears flattened, and his eyes darted downwards to his legs.

     “...Really?”

     “Yes!” Lionheart said desperately, “Those are dancer’s legs if I’ve ever seen them!”

     “...Well…” Clawhauser said, rolling his ankles and bending his knees, “I guess they  _ are _ kinda strong…”

     “Without a doubt,” Lionheart said, “That comes with all of that spinning and jumping, doesn’t it?”

     “I guess it does--”

     “Go on!” Lionheart said, “Show me, show me your kickshawses, craft me a coranto! Bless mine eyes with those fantastic footworks!”

     “H--here?”

     “Yes, here! Go on, stand up, stand up!”

     Clawhauser purposefully stood up, his wide eyes glued to Lionheart. After a moment, he began to awkwardly bounce on his feet.

     “Yes, g-go on! Don’t be so humble!”

     Clawhauser flashed a bashful smile. He began to lightly flick his toes outward, sort of kicking the air in front of him. He cautiously hopped from one leg to the other.

     “Yes, that’s it!” Lionheart roared, “Higher,  _ higher! _ ”

     Clawhauser laughed and started to raise his kicks and shimmies. He began to prance around the room, a sort of awkwardly ecstatic butterfly. Lionheart burst into hysterical laughter.

_      “Keep going!” _ he wheezed,  _ “Higher! Higher…!” _


	5. A Savage Appearance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy's used to playing dress-up, but this is just ludicrous...

     Judy took one last look at herself in the pocket mirror. Her hat sat comfortably on her head, her long, black coat broadening her shoulders and narrowing her hips. The dark blue vest and cream-colored shirt were a nice combination, and it showed that she had  _ some _ status. The tan cropped pants fit snugly around the base of her kneecaps, and the boots that folded around them were nicely shined.

     The black stripes on her face--after much effort--were finally symmetrical. 

     Judy placed the pocket mirror back in her coat pocket and gave the lapels a tug. She began to walk out from behind the tree she was leaning against, but after a moment, stopped. She let out a groan of annoyance.

     Judy shoved her hand in her pants, dug around at her crotch, pulled out a small ball of rags, and angrily threw them on the ground.

     She began to purposefully walk up the pavement towards the large mansion nestled in the trees. She could hear voices in the distance, but they were too far away to distinguish. As she approached, she could smell the flowers from the garden behind the house...it seemed that they were just beginning to bloom. She looked at the vines that were slowly snaking around the corners of the walls and the porch, slowly tickling the house in subtlety.

     As Judy began to approach the porch, she heard the sounds of muffled footsteps and bickering voices.

_      “...want us to make posters? Ad...the paper?” _

_      “I don’t...just a...thing to do…” _

     The door suddenly burst open.

     “I just don’t get why none of the  _ other _ servants coulda--”

     Finnick and Honey froze in the doorway, their eyes now locked on the wide-eyed bunny at the foot of the stairs. 

     They stared at each other for a moment.

     Finnick lightly coughed and straightened his collar.

     “Uh...hello.”

     Judy cleared her throat.

     “Hello, sir,” she began in a guttural tone, “I was wondering if there were any, uh...any openings in employment at this establishment.”

     “...‘openings in employment’...”

     “Yes.”

     Finnick and Honey glanced at each other. Honey chuckled and looked back down at Judy.

     “One moment, please…”

     The door slammed in her face. 

     Judy’s ears could pick up the two servant’s muffled bickering from behind the oaken wood. They were arguing about something to do with coincidences, and what if they just took it, and where did he come from, and this, and that, and…

     Another distant shout came from behind the house, from the direction of the garden. Judy craned her neck to try and see around the corner of the house, but all she saw were vine entangled-fences.

     The door suddenly popped back open. Honey and Finnick looked at her expectantly.

     “What’s your name?”

     “My...my what?”

     “Your name, bub. What is it?”

     Judy’s mouth plucked the first name that burst into her head.

     “Jack.”

_      “Jack?” _

     “Yes.”

     Finnick raised an eyebrow. “Is that it?” he asked.

     “...W-What?”

     “You gotta last name, buddy?”

     “Uh, yes, s-sorry. Ho--”

_      ‘Wait, no,’ _ she thought,  _ ‘you can’t say that. Too close to reality. Could they know him? God knows how or why--also a great tribute to your dead brother to just up and completely assume his identity-- _

_      ‘Something else, something different, something  _ quick. _ ’ _

     “...Savage.”

     Honey and Finnick exchanged looks.

_      “Savage?” _

     “Savage.”

_      “Jack Savage?” _

     “Jack Savage.”

     They stared at her pensively. After a moment, Honey raised an eyebrow.

     “Gotta nice ring to it…” she muttered to herself.

     “How old are you, Jack?” Finnick asked.

     Judy cleared her throat. “Twenty-four, sir.”

     Their eyebrows shot up.

_      “Really?” _ Honey said. “I would never’ve guessed  _ that _ . Your voice is, uh...pretty high for a guy your age…”

_      ‘Oh god say something say something quick--’ _

     “Well, I’m a--I’m a eunuch.”

_      'W h a t ?' _

     Finnick stared at her blankly.

     “Oh,” he said. “Well, that’s uh...that’s great and all, but...okay. Have you got any training in personal servitude?”

     Judy’s eyes darted away nervously. “How so?” she asked.

     “You know, dressing, bookkeeping, messengering, anything in between--”

     “Yes,” Judy interrupted, “Yes, all of--all of that. I-I can cook, too, and-and clean...I’m also trained in reading and writing, so I can transcribe any letters that are dictated to me…”

     Finnick’s mouth turned downward in pleasant surprise, his head lightly nodding. He turned to Honey and raised an eyebrow.

     “That’s great,” Honey said, eyeing Finnick, “That’s perfect, just--one second--”

     The door slammed closed again. There was a quick rapid-fire exchange of whispers behind it, and then the door swung back open. Finnick motioned over his shoulder.

     “This way, please.”

* * *

     “...Wow...this place is  _ gigantic _ …”

     “Stay close,” Finnick threw over his shoulder, “Last thing we want is for you to get lost in here. We don’t wanna have to send out a damn search party for you.”

     Judy stared at the immense ornate rooms as she walked past, absorbing all of the chandeliers, and the curtains, and the new-age incandescent electric lighting that she had only read about before...this mammal had money, she realized, and he wanted the world to  _ know _ it.

     The deep maroons and purples pooled into Judy’s pupils with every glance she took at the hallways and staircases they walked by. It was comfortably suffocating. 

     “Just to warn you, this job is  _ not  _ gonna be easy,” Honey said. “The guy you’ll be working for is a  _ handful, _ and you’re gonna have to be at his immediate beck and call 24/7…”

     “Oh, I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it, ma’am…”

     Honey gave her a look.

     They entered a sleek marble room that had windows lining the walls. Some chairs sat around a table, a grand piano placed off to the right. There were two large glass doors that opened up to a small balcony, which had a set of stairs leading down on each side. Judy followed the two outside to see an immense lawn filled with fancily cut shrubs, large arcs of vine-laced wire, and a small white gazebo at the far end of it. Behind the gazebo sat the garden; flowers of all colors and species bloomed, creating a rainbow sea of petals. The house stretched around the lawn, creating the look and feel of a courtyard.

     Judy’s ears fell to her side in shock.

     Suddenly, a familiar shout sounded from below them, followed by the sudden clash of metal. Judy’s eyes darted down to see a fox--clad in a simple white shirt, black pants with gold embroidery, and leather boots--wielding a rapier, locked in battle with a frightened hyena in a tailcoat. The fox lunged and poked the trembling hyena in the side, releasing a frightful yelp. The fox laughed.

     “Another hit!” He said triumphantly, standing up straight and victoriously swinging his sword, “How about a round thirteen, Mr. Lorville?”

     “Sir!” Finnick called, starting down the stairs, “There’s someone here you should meet…”

     “Come, now, find your starting position--”

     “Sir!” Finnick called again, “We have Catmull’s replacement for you.”

     Nick suddenly looked up at the group of three descending the stairs.

     “What?”

     “Your new page.”

     “Oh!” Nick said, glancing at Judy, “Marvelous, absolutely--fetch a pitcher of water, would you--what’s your name boy?”

     Judy’s tongue had turned to rubber. She took a deep breath and tried not to drool on her shirt.

     “Jack,” she managed, “Jack, uh--Savage.”

     “Very good,” Nick said, examining his blade, “Now Savage, have you ever fenced before?”

     “Uh--y-yes, sir…”

     “Well good, because now you’re going to learn,” Nick said without so much as a glance.

     Nick walked a couple paces away from her, and a rapier was suddenly placed in Judy’s hand. She gave a look of confusion back towards Finnick and Honey, who simply returned a piteous frown.

     “Now, the first rule of a duel,” Nick began, “Is to surprise the opponent. The only way to catch them off guard is to introduce something unexpected, to  _ confuse _ them so that--”

     “Sir,” Judy interrupted, “I said that I  _ have  _ fenced before…”

     Nick slowly turned around, his mouth open mid-sentence. After a small beat, he raised his eyebrows.

     “You have?”

     “Yes sir.”

     Nick’s eyes darted to the side. He clamped his mouth shut then shrugged.

     “Well,” he said matter-of-factly, “Then let’s begin.”

     Judy’s sword was suddenly struck down, and before she knew it, the blade of Nick’s rapier was jabbed right between her ribs. She glanced down to see the covered tip pressed up against the folds of her vest. Nick let out a shout.

     “Hah!” he said with a smile, “Another hit! Add that to the score, please…”

     Judy looked up at him, dumbstruck. She straightened her posture.

     "I wasn’t ready…”

     “...I-I’m sorry, what?”

     “I said I wasn’t ready,” Judy said firmly. “You didn’t even say  _ en garde _ or anything, there was no time to set position.”

     Nick turned towards her and stared at her long and hard. The other servants stared fearfully between them. After a moment, he spoke.

     “Well,” he said calmly, “In a real duel, will you be given time to set your position? Make sure your form’s right, your blade’s polished, your shoes’re shined? There isn’t any time for such... _ mundane _ things. Let’s be real for a moment. In real life, it’s life or death.”

     Judy glowered at him, her anger beginning to overflow. But suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, Judy straightened up and cocked an eyebrow.

     “Really?” she asked.

     Nick snickered. “Well,  _ of course, _ ” he said.

     Nick’s shoulder was suddenly thrown back by the propulsion of his sword getting blasted out of his arm. As he stumbled away, Judy lunged for his stomach. Before he knew it, his breath was knocked out of him, and his knees were buckling, and he somehow ended up on the ground with a sword at his neck. His eyes slowly crawled up to see Judy standing above him, panting heavily. She swallowed.

     “I wasn’t  _ just  _ trained in fencing,” she breathed, wiping her nose. “I’ve also been trained in many forms of hand-to-hand combat…”

     The tip of Judy’s sword carefully lowered and lightly tapped Nick’s left breast.

     “A hit.”

     Nick stared at her, agape. Judy glanced around to see the other servants staring at her in terror. Finnick’s eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of his head. She slowly realized that they were staring at Nick; their eyes were completely laced with fear, and she could almost see the sweat beading on their foreheads. Suddenly, a laugh slowly appeared from below her.

     Judy looked down to see Nick with his head back and his eyes clamped shut, a paw clutching at his chest. His shoulders bounced as he fell onto his back, his arms splaying to his sides. He lay there for a moment, hysterical laughter rippling through his body. After a moment, he sniffed and wiped his nose.

     “Oh, that was the best damn fight I’ve experienced in  _ years! _ ”

     A collective sigh of relief flowed through the air. Judy lowered her sword, even more confused than before. It was suddenly taken from her, and she looked to see Nick standing to his feet. The hyena from before quickly took his sword and disappeared into the house. Nick approached her, chuckling.

     “Sorry, remind me of your name?”

     “--D’uhhh, Savage,” Judy stammered, straightening her hat. “Jack Savage. Sir.”

     “Savage... _ Savage? Jack? _ \--which do you prefer, son?”

     Nick placed a paw on her shoulder. Judy’s fur stood on edge.

     “UhHhh, Jack is fine. Jack’s--just fine…”

     “Jack,” Nick repeated with a smile. Suddenly, with the turn of his heel he began to walk towards the stairs of the balcony. “Follow me,” he called over his shoulder, “We’ve got  _ a lot _ to talk about, Jack…”

     Judy quickly jogged to catch up with him, and she could feel the pairs of eyes glued to her as she began to ascend the stairs. As she passed Finnick, she saw him mouth to her ‘good luck’. Honey clasped her paws in prayer.

     “I think that you’ll be  _ perfect _ for this job,” Nick continued with a satisfied grin, “Absolutely  _ perfect _ .”


	6. The Tragedy of Errors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief look at the island of Elkenfried...

     The docks of Elkenfreid were not deserted, but none of the bobbing ships tethered to the posts were with mammals near them. The docks were small, and only held five to six vessels. The setting sun was glinting over the deep, dark water, painting the sky a tired and melancholy orange hue.

     Jack sat with his feet dangling over the water. His eyes were glued to the horizon.

     Judy was dead.

     She had drowned in the sea.

     She was never coming back.

     “You should change out of that thing,” a voice said gently from behind him, “I have found a clean shirt for you…”

     Jack didn’t budge. His eyes remained at the edge of the sea, watching the sun slowly dive. He slowly blinked.

     “Why?”

     The panther behind him looked up from the post he was leaning against. He stared at the back of Jack’s head for a moment.

     “Why what?”

     “ _ Why what?” _ Jack repeated to himself with a chuckle. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Why’d you  _ save _ me, Renato?”

     There was a pause. Manchas straightened up. “How could I not?” he asked.

     He was met with silence.

     Manchas stood up and walked to the edge of the dock. He sat down next to Jack and looked at him.

     “Listen to me,” he said. “You cannot do this, do you understand? You absolutely  _ cannot  _ do this to yourself. You have lost someone very close to you, and that’s a hard thing to live through, but you  _ cannot _ blame yourself...or me, or the captain of the ship, or anyone else.” 

     Jack answered with silence. Manchas followed his gaze to the horizon. The sat for a moment in silence.

     “...Only one you can blame is the sea…” Manchas said quietly.

     Jack sighed and put his face in his paws.

     “...I’m sorry,” he said.

     Manchas looked at him. “For what?”

     “I should be thanking you,” said Jack, “For what you’ve done for me. You drag me out of the sea, you  _ save my life  _ and then I go on to ask you  _ why _ ...what a great guy I am, right?”

     “Do not be sorry,” Manchas protested, “It is  _ normal _ for you to feel this way…”

     Jack went silent. He stared out at the sea for a while more.

     “You know what I think you need?” Manchas asked.

     Jack sighed. “What?”

     “A pint of beer.”

     Jack chuckled softly. He rubbed his eyes.

     “Yeah, that would really hit the spot.”

     Jack looked down at his feet dangling above the water. He watched the waves slowly roll over each other and fade into the deep navy ridges. He noticed his eyes getting blurry, and suddenly, tears began to streak down his face.

     Jack broke down and let them fall. He inhaled sharply and rapidly, wiping his eyes. His sobs jerked at his chest and his mouth curled into a grimace. Manchas scooted closer to him and placed a large paw over his shoulders.

     “I know,” he said softly, “I know.”

     Jack sniffled and raised his head up. He rubbed his cheeks with the back of his hand.

     “Sorry,” he said with a broken laugh, “I don’t--I don’t know what’s gotten into me, I just--”

     “It’s alright,” Manchas said. “It is alright.”

     Jack sighed and wiped his nose. He placed his paws in his lap and stared deep into his palms.

     “My sister’s dead,” he said plainly. 

     Manchas nodded disdainfully. “I’m afraid so.” He said softly.

     Jack sighed and place his paw on the back of his neck. “We were--we were born an hour apart,” he rasped, “Yet we...we couldn’t manage to  _ die _ within the same...”

     Jack trailed off. He sniffled and wiped his nose again. Manchas gently rubbed his back.

     “I want to help you,” Manchas said, gazing at Jack gently. He blinked. “How can I do that?”

     Jack looked up at him, his brow furrowing.

     “What? What do you--no. No, y-you don’t have to do that--”

     “I know I don’t,” Manchas said, “But I want to. Anything you want or need, I will help.”

     Jack frowned and slowly shook his head.

     “No,” he said. “No, I don’t--I don’t want you to.”

     The light in Manchas’ eyes dimmed. His face slowly started to fall.

     “It’s very nice of you to...to offer,” Jack said, straightening up, “But I...I need to do this on my own. You know? I need to do all of this for myself, I feel like I--that’s what’s most important for me right now.”

     Manchas lowered his paw from Jack’s back and nodded softly.

     “I understand--”

     “Listen, Renato, you’re a great friend,” Jack said, “And I am very much in debt to you for saving me, but what I need to do is work things out myself. I don’t want you bounding yourself to me like a servant.”

     “But that’s what I  _ want _ to do,” Manchas said. “You need help, and I am more than happy to provide--”

     “I know you are,” Jack said, holding up a gentle paw, “But I can’t accept that offer. You know I can’t.”

     Manchas sighed and disappointedly nodded his head. His gaze slowly returned to the ocean. Jack followed. He swallowed.

     “...Be it getting a job, paying for food...whatever,” Jack said, “I’ve got to do it for myself.”

     They sat in silence for a while. The sun had now almost completely disappeared behind the sea. The sky was slowly turning a warm purple and the stars were beginning bloom. The silhouette of the island stuck out against the sky. Jack raised a tired finger and pointed to it.

     “That’s the Isle of Zootopia,” he said to Manchas, “Right?”

     Manchas swallowed hard and rubbed chin. He took a deep breath.

     “Yes,” he said. “Yes, it...it is.”

     “I could get a job there,” Jack said--mostly to himself. “I could work for one of the dukes, or be a messenger, or...or something…”

     Manchas silently nodded, his paw clamped to his chin.

     Jack meditatively rubbed his face--bringing his paws up across his eyebrows and down across his cheeks--and then rested his hands over his mouth. After a moment, he chuckled.

     “...I may take you up on that pint, though,” he said.


	7. Semblative a Woman's Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy is given her first--and hardest--job as Nick's page

     “Three days,” Finnick muttered, “You’ve known him for three days and you’re practically his brother already…”

     Judy and Finnick were sitting at the table in the marble room that lead to the balcony. Finnick was staring at Judy long and hard. She was now wearing a uniform--a maroon coat with black golden-embroidered pants, crisp leather boots rising above the cuffs. She adjusted her collar.

     “I don’t quite know how to feel about your, uh...surprise, at this,” Judy said with a chuckle. “He seems nice, he’s really friendly, and easy to get along with; I don’t see anything wrong here.”

     “You keep this up,” Finnick said, leaning forward, “If you stay on his good side like this...man, you’ll be able to retire by the time you’re _thirty._ ”

     “Now, see, that _scares_ me a little,” Judy said, sitting up higher, “Is it not really common for him to treat his servants this well? I don’t have to, like, be ready for him to suddenly turn on me or anything, right?”

     Finnick looked up at her. There was a beat.

     “No,” he said softly, shaking his head, “No no no, it’s--it’s fine, you don’t have to…”

_“Jack?”_

     They both turned to look down the hallway. Nick--adorned in a fringed dressing gown--was making his way toward them, a band of servants behind him. He seemed occupied with someone over his shoulder.  Finnick and Judy quickly hopped to their feet.

     “Have any of you seen him? I could’ve sworn he was--”

     “ _Here,_ sir!” Judy said, raising a hand. “What can I help you with?”

     Nick turned and locked eyes with her. His face lit up, his ears shooting skywards.

     “Oh! Perfect!” he said happily, quickening his stride. He waved his paw over his shoulder and mumbled something to the servants behind him. He turned back to Finnick and Judy with a smile.

     “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said, “Could I get a moment with him, Finnick?”

     Finnick nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need me--”

     “Oh, no no no, that won’t be necessary, really,” Nick protested with a snicker, “I just need a brief moment with him.”

     Finnick nodded again, but a little less convincingly. As he walked away, Judy caught him flashing his fingers crossed to her. She turned back to Nick with an apprehensive gulp.

     “Is everything alright?” she asked. “Did I--did I do something wrong?...”

     Nick’s eyebrows lowered and his mouth cracked open in confusion. He muttered to himself quietly for a moment.

     “...did you do someth...what? No. _No!_ Of _course_ not,” He said suddenly, raising his paws, “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong, I just...I wanted to talk to you about your, uh, _job_ today.”

     Judy sighed in relief.

     “Oh, okay,” she said, “I thought I was in trouble or something, and, you know, I was like--”

     “No no no, don’t worry about it,” Nick laughed, “You’re fine.”

     Judy chuckled forcefully. She noticed her paws nervously wringing together in front of her, and she quickly glued them to her sides.

     “...So, uh...the job!” she said.

     “Yes!” said Nick, “The job. Listen to me…”

     Nick placed a paw on her shoulder. A chill rippled down Judy’s spine, and she struggled to remain upright.

     “You know how we’ve talked about this,” Nick said, looking deep into her eyes. “I’ve told you the very chapters of my heart. You _know_ how much I love this woman, and I need you to tell her _everything._ ”

     Judy nervously nodded. “Y--Yes, yes, _everything--”_

     “You _must_ be let in to see her,” Nick said seriously. “Even if they keep those gates locked and refuse to let you in, _by God_ you will _stay_ there until she agrees to hear you, and you will let them know that.”

     Judy gulped.

     “But--but _sir_ ,” she stammered, “If she’s really refusing to see anyone-- _anyone_ \--for...for seven years, there’s no way I’ll actually be able to--”

     “Be loud, be obnoxious--cause an uproar!” Nick said, enthusiastically pumping his fists, “You _have to speak with her_.”

     “Okay,” Judy said, taking a step back, “Okay, so, let’s say that--let’s say I _do_ somehow get to see her--”

     Nick suddenly leaned forward and grasped Judy’s shoulders. He leaned down to her level and spoke very quietly.

     “ _Then unfold the passion of my love_ ,” he said. “Give her the speeches of my faithfulness, my gentleness, the feelings of mine that cannot be put under bounds.”

     Judy goggled at him. A smile crept upon Nick’s lips.

     “This’ll be perfect,” he said. “Absolutely perfect. You’re the perfect one to do this, Jack, you’re the--she’ll listen to you, without a doubt, you’re so much better than some of the older mammals that I’ve sent before…”

     Judy blinked.

     “W-What?” she said. “What do you--what are you talking about?”

     “It’s true,” said Nick, dropping his paws. “She’s bound to listen to you. Of course, you’re so much easier to listen to, you’re so young you practically aren’t even a _man_...”

     Judy froze. She swallowed hard.

     “...Psh...what?” she said, a forceful smirk plastered to her face, “What do you mean I’m not a man?”

     “Well,” Nick said, “You’re just a boy. No one would be able to tell the difference between you and a woman. I mean, look at you!”

     Nick gestured to her. Judy quickly and discreetly eyed herself, then glanced back up at Nick.

     “What?”

     “You’re so much _fairer_ than a man,” Nick said simply. “The goddess Diana’s lips are neither as smooth nor as rubious as yours, your--your voice is so soft and high, just like a woman’s...the way you walk, talk, it’s all perfect androgyny!”

     Judy gave a nervous smile. She could feel the sweat beading on the back of her neck. Suddenly, Nick’s expression changed slightly. He swallowed.

     “And even...your form is quite like that of a woman’s…”

     Nick placed his paw on his chin, and Judy felt his eyes scan her up and down. They locked eyes for a moment.

     Suddenly, Nick snapped out of it as if a brick hit him to the head. He quickly cleared his throat and averted his eyes.

     “I know you’re the perfect one for this job,” he said, hitting his chest with his fist, “You’ll be perfect.”

     Nick turned away from her and looked back down the hallway. Finnick was standing at the end of it, and Judy saw his ears perk up.

     “If you could show him the way,” Nick said, “Just send him off in the right direction…”

     Finnick stood up from leaning against the wall. “Sure,” he said, “I‘d be happy to…”

     Judy walked past Nick and began to approach Finnick at the end of the hall. Her stomach was full of butterflies, whizzing and fluttering violently through her chest. Suddenly, Nick cleared his throat.

     “Jack!”

     Judy quickly turned around. Nick had a warm smile on his face.

     “If you do this well,” he said, “You’ll live to be a very rich man. I’ll make sure of it.”

     Judy felt a smile creep on her face.

     “...Thank you, sir,” she said. “I promise I won’t let you down.”

     Judy turned around and began to walk back towards Finnick. He was waiting for her with the door open. As she joined him in the doorway and followed him down the stairs, she thought about what had just happened. About five different heart attacks had just been narrowly avoided.

     She realized that this fox was going to be the death of her.

     And that she would die from the harm on her heart.

     Because she realized, very slowly but very heavily, that she really wished that _she_ was the one that he was courting.


	8. The Honorable Lady of the House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There appears to be a visitor at the gates...

     Yax adjusted his vest once more, making sure his necklaces and beads sat in all the right places. He picked up his sack from where it hand landed (it had almost burst open from being tossed over the fence) and he began to tread towards the house.

     It had been _ages_ since he had been here. Not since the old fox had kicked the bucket. He had heard somewhere that one of his kids had been knocked off too.

     Yeah, knocked off a balcony or something.

     He made his way to the cobblestone path leading to the garden area. He adjusted the sack’s straps on his shoulder, and he gently pushed the neck of his mandolin further in. As he walked, he tried to think about how he was going to explain himself. Oh, yeah, it was a crazy story, he had been offered this spot on a trading vessel, and he had gotten stuck in the middle of a hurricane for about a year or so, and…

     Yax noticed someone walking towards the sculpture garden. They were fiddling with a stack of papers in their hooves. He could see their lips moving quietly to themselves at a rapid pace. They glanced at him, kept walking, then suddenly froze. They did a double take.

     Yeah, he would’ve recognized that lamb anywhere.

 _“You!”_ she barked, charging towards him with a fire in her eyes.

     Yax chuckled and raised his arms in presentation. He began to saunter towards her.

     “Hello to you, too, man…”

     Bellwether tripped over a hedge and barely caught herself from toppling head over heels down the short incline of the hill. The papers in her arms flew into a frenzy, scattering across the grass. Yax laughed and placed his sack on the ground.

     “Don’t worry, I got it for ya--”

     “Where in the _world_ have you been?!” Bellwether quietly spat, looking up at Yax from the ground. “It’s been practically a _year_ since you last set foot on this property--”

     “You know, it’s kindof a funny story,” Yax said, casually plucking some pages from the grass, “Lemme tell ya. Like, it’s _crazy,_ man…”

     “I don’t want to hear it,” Bellwether said, quickly plucking the papers from the grass like speckled flowers, “You’ve been ignoring your duties for over a--as soon as the Lady sees you, she’ll kick you out! Or even worse, she’ll have you _executed_!”

     “Well, on the bright side,” Yax said, “Th’t means I won’t have to be afraid of _anything_ anymore...”

     “How do you know _that_?”

     “Well, I’ll be _dead_ , man.”

     Bellwether rolled her eyes. She looked back over her shoulder and her ears shot up.

     “Oh my goodness. It’s her.”

     “Who?”

     “ _Who do you think?_ ” Bellwether hissed, snatching the rest of the papers from him. She quickly stood up and brushed out her dress. “Now, I have somewhere to be,” she said to Yax, still kneeling on the ground, “So _you’ll_ have to deal with this _yourself._ ”

     Bellwether quickly turned on her heels and plowed down the path to the sculpture garden. Yax looked back up near the house.

     A small figure dressed in wisps of black was slowly walking along the path. The rays of sunlight caught golden in the fabric of the black veil resting over their face. Behind them was a large Water Buffalo, dressed in a nicely tailored black peacoat with silver embroidery on the shoulders and lapels. A short train of servants trailed behind them.

     Yax stood up and slung the sack back over his shoulder. He casually began to approach them. As he walked, thoughts raced through his mind.

     Could he actually get fired for this? Surely they wouldn’t; he’d been their fool for years, and there was no way he could get the boot _now_.

     But, could they actually _execute_ him, too?

     Was that even _legal?_

     As Yax got closer, he noticed the group of mammals slowing down. By the time he was shouting distance from them, they had come to a complete stop. They were all staring at him. He came to a stop a couple of feet in front of them. He smiled obliviously.

     “Hey there,” he said, looking between them all. He blinked at them. “Sure has been a while, huh?”

     The figure in black let out a tired sigh. She looked up at the Buffalo next to her.

     “I really don’t have time for this,” she breathed.

     She turned back over her shoulder to the servants behind her. She cleared her throat.

     “Take the fool away, please?”

     “Alright, you heard her,” Yax said, shoving his hooves in his pockets, “Take her away. Go ahead.”

     Skye slowly turned back around to face Yax. She raised a controlled eyebrow.

     “...I beg your pardon?”

     Yax looked back at her and gave a quizzical look.

     “Hmm?...Oh!” he said, “Yeah, sorry man, I said, ‘Go ahead and take her away’. You said to take away the fool, and they’re, uh, they’re gonna take you away now.”

     Skye’s paws fell from their clasp in front of her to her sides. There was a tense beat.

     “I was talking about _you,_ Yax.”

     Yax looked at her for a moment, processing. Suddenly, his eyebrows shot up.

     “Ohhhhhhh,” he said, “Ohhh, okay, yeah, that makes sense. Sorry, man, I thought you were talking about _you,_ ‘cause, you know…”

     The buffalo at her side let out a huff. Skye raised her paw calmly. She raised and tilted her head slightly, a stonecut expression on her face.

     “Are you insisting, Mr. Yax, that in this case, _I’m_ the fool?”

     Yax nodded. “Yep,” he said. “Don’t worry, I can, uh...I can prove it.”

     Skye rolled her eyes with a tired chuckle. She let out a gust of air and looked back up at him.

     “Alright,” she said, annoyed, “Go ahead. _Prove_ it.”

     “Okay,” Yax said, standing in a ready position, as if he were about to perform an extraneous act, “Well, lemme ask you something first--I mean, only if I’m allowed to, you know, can I do that?”

     Skye blinked at him.

     “Sure.”

     “Well,” Yax said, rubbing his hooves together, “I see th’t you’re in mourning right now, and stuff, and uh...why is that? What’s goin’ on, man?”

     Skye swallowed forcibly. She gave Yax a subtle look.

     “Well,” she began, “I don’t know if you’ve _heard,_ but my brother happened to pass away a month or so before.”

     “Oh, okay, see, that makes _sense_ now,” Yax said, nodding his head, “Bummer. So your brother’s in _hell,_ then?”

     The servants looked at Skye nervously. Her face through the veil remained controlled and unchanged.

     “May ask you--” she stated calmly, “--what in _God’s name_ makes you think that?”

     “Well, you know,” Yax said, “‘Cause you’re mourning him. If he was in heaven, you know, it’d be a party here, man, we’d be all happy and grateful and all of that...but you’re all sad an’ stuff, so he must’ve gone to hell, huh?”

     Skye let out a gust of air. “Well, I am _certain_ that he’s in heaven.” she said.

     “Well, you see, man,” Yax said, “That’s uh, that doesn’t make any sense, if y’ don’t mind my sayin’ so, you know? If he’s in heaven, you’d be happy, right? You mourning him makes kinda _you_ the fool, man.”

     Skye smiled weakly and looked down at her paws. She chuckled quietly to herself. After a moment, she looked up at the buffalo over her shoulder.

     “Mr. Bogo,” she said softly, “What do you think of all this?”

     Bogo let out a satisfied sigh. He looked down at Yax.

     “Well,” he said, “To be quite honest, I’m surprised that you’re giving him any of your time.”

     Yax’s smile fell.

     “To think he has the audacity to insult your brother in such a way,” Bogo continued, “Nonetheless insult _you,_ is absolutely _horrendous._ It’s a horribly shallow attempt at comedy. It’s sad how he lives on laughter and applause, and nothing else. I mean, look at him _now_. He’s met with no laughter, and he’s gagged!”

     Yax opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Bogo huffed, satisfied.

     “I’m surprised you haven’t hanged him already,” Bogo said. “He’s obviously not of good substance; no use to you nor anyone else on this tired earth.”

     “Oh, Mr. Bogo, _please_ ,” Skye said with a smile, “Don’t get so defensive. I’m not that sensitive, am I? I knew he was just joking, his jokes obviously didn’t mean anything serious…”

     Skye began to trail off, distracted. Suddenly, she straightened up and stared over Yax. He turned around.

     Over the edge of the hill, Bellwether’s wool bobbed quickly towards them. Her face rose above the hill, and she waved her hoof urgently.

     “... _MY LADY!!”_ She shouted from the distance, comically out of breath, “ _...MY...oh my--MY LADY!!”_

     Skye stepped in front of Yax and began to make her way down the path. Bogo and the other servants pushed past to follow. Skye cleared her throat.

     “What is it, Ms. Bellwether?”

     “There’s a--one moment, please, let me…”

     Bellwether placed her hooves on her knees and wheezed for a moment. Skye approached her.

     “Are you alright?”

     “Yes, my lady, I’m--I’m fine, there’s...There’s someone at the gates for you.”

     Skye straightened up. She sighed disappointedly and brought a paw to her face.

     “Is it one of Wilde’s messengers again?” she groaned.

     “I don’t know,” Bellwether panted. “Whoever it is, he’s gained quite the crowd...for good reason too, might I add. He’s quite...easy on the eyes if I say so myself…”

     “He’s gained a--what?” Skye asked. “Why? Who’s with him right now?”

     Bellwether glanced back over her shoulder. “Well,” she said, “Right now it appears to be your uncle…”

     “Oh, sweet cheese and--get him out of there, he’s not gonna help any.”

     Bellwether quickly nodded and skittered away. Skye sighed and turned to Bogo.

     “Alright,” she said, “Go see him. If he’s one of Wilde’s, I don’t wanna talk to him. Tell him I’m sick, I’m out of the house, _something_ , just make him go away.”

     Bogo politely bowed his head. “Yes, madam,” he said. With a turn, he started off for the gate.

     Skye sighed as she watched him go. Wilde just couldn’t take a hint, could he? He had been sending messengers for _months_ now, and turning them away had not been changing anything. The speeches were always long and overzealous, and it made her want to pound her head against a wall. He was arrogant, self-centered, and violently superfluous, what else did she need to hate him?

     She watched as Bogo’s shoulder jerked back suddenly, and he gave a glare. Lionheart stumbled from behind him, clumsily patting his back. As he started to stagger up the hill towards them, Skye gave a look back to Yax. He chuckled.

     “Welp. Speaking of fools…” he said.

     “Good god,” she said, “I’m surprised he’s still conscious.”

     Lionheart waved a flimsy paw and sputtered what sounded like a greeting. Skye crossed her arms and sighed.

     “I heard that you met our visitor already,” Skye said. “Who is he?”

     Lionheart took a deep breath. “It’s a...a man,” he grunted, nodding contentedly.

     Skye raised an eyebrow.

     “ _A man?_ ”

     “Yes, yes a--a man,” Lionheart repeated. “A rabbit. Very short. Sort ‘f gray...yes, a-a rabbit.”

     Skye paused for a moment. Who on this island had a _rabbit_ employed? She definitely had not seen them yet, whoever they were.

     Lionheart stifled a belch and pounded his chest a couple times. He gave a glance to Skye.

     “...Uh, indigestion,” he muttered. He glanced over her shoulder and spotted Yax. His eyebrows shot up. “Oh!” he said, “Mr., uh...Yax, how-how did-when were y-how are you, good sir?”

     “I’m doin’ okay, Sir Lionheart,” Yax droned, “I’m doin’ just fine. How’re you doin’, man?”

     “Oh, I’m just--um--splendid, yes, I’m--how are you?”

     “Uncle Leo,” Skye interrupted, “Who does this ra--um, _man_ belong to?”

     Lionheart turned to her and blinked. He cleared his throat.

     “Uh, I uh--I don’t know,” he said. “Why should I care, doesn’t affect me either way.”

     Lionheart stumbled past them and began to walk back towards the house. Skye sputtered in frustration.

     “What’re--where are you going?” she asked.

     Lionheart looked back over his shoulder. “I think its’--I uh--it’s time for, for a, for a drink, I think…”

     Lionheart reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his flask. He began to fumble with it, and he stumbled over his feet. Skye held her face in her hands.

     “You know,” Yax said, “There’s three different stages of drunkeness…”

     Skye looked over her shoulder and stared at him. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

     “By the first drink, you’re a fool,” Yax started, shoving his hooves in his pockets, “--And believe me, man, I can attest to that--by the second drink, you’re a madman, and by the third drink...you’re a _drowned_ man…”

     Skye sighed and looked back towards her Uncle, staggering into the house.

     “Well...call the coroner,” she said, “Cause he’s drowned alright.”

     “Nah man, not yet,” Yax chuckled. He brushed some fur out of his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep up with ‘im…”

     Yax picked up his sack and headed off in the direction of the house, whistling.

     Skye laughed softly to herself and looked back towards the gates. Bogo was already halfway back to her, a distraught look on his face. Skye rolled her eyes. She began to walk down the path towards him.

     “What is it?” she called.

     “My lady, he absolutely _insists_ that he speaks with you,” Bogo said, a frown on his face. “I told him you were sick, and he said that that’s why he was here. I said that you were asleep, he told me that he’d wait until you woke up. I’ve told him everything possible, but he always has some answer, some way of getting out of it, I--I don’t know what else to do!”

     “Well,” Skye said, stopping in front of him, “Go back and tell him that he won’t see me, and that’s that.”

     “ _I did_ ,” Bogo hissed nervously. “He said he’d stay there, standing in front of the gate, until you would let him in. Said he would ‘become a signpost if absolutely necessary’. Madam, what do I say to him? I can’t think of anything else!”

     Skye stared into space for a moment, thinking. This was definitely a first. No messenger had ever been so... _committed_ before.

     Skye sighed and rubbed her eyes.

     “What kind of mammal is he?” she groaned.

     “He’s a rabbit--”

     “Yes, yes, I _know_ he’s a rabbit,” Skye said, “I meant what is he _like_?”

     “Well...he’s quite _insistent_ ,” Bogo huffed, adjusting his glasses on his nose. “Bordering a bit on _rude,_ frankly. Says he’ll see you whether you like it or not.”

     Skye’s head drew back in surprise. She took a deep breath.

     “...Okay,” she said carefully, “How...how _old_ is he?”

     “He’s _very_ young,” said Bogo, “Not quite a man but much more than a boy. I’ll admit, he’s very intelligent and speaks very well, but...”

     Skye looked off in the direction of the gate. What Bellwether had said was right; there was a clump of servants and guards standing by the gates, very invested in something on the other side.

     A terrible idea appeared.

     Skye sighed, and her shoulders fell. “Alright...fine,” she said defeatedly, “Let him in. But only in a few minutes, I need to ready myself first.”

     “Of course, Madam,” Bogo said with a subtle bow. “Shall I send for Ms. Bellwether?”

     “Yes, please,” Skye said, beginning back towards the estate, “That would--be _lovely_ …”

     As Skye walked back up to the house, she could feel the dread settling into her veins. This was going to be painstakingly boring and redundant, listening to the never-ending epics of Wilde’s deepest and darkest woes. She would sit in bed tonight scolding herself in her head until the wee hours of the morning. However, she realized, it was the right thing to do.

     After all, the sooner he was let in, the sooner he could be kicked out.


	9. The Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy is faced with her hardest task yet

     Wiry wisps of silver and gold laced its way along the white walls of the parlor. Judy stared in awe at the crimson silk curtains that framed the doors as she was lead inside. She carefully stepped over the small ledge in the doorframe, and the doors were gently closed behind her. The servants flanking her left her side and took their place at opposite ends of the room. Judy briefly caught eyes with a lamb in horn-rimmed glasses who was busying herself with lighting a couple of candles that sat in the corner. The lamb quickly averted her eyes, much to Judy’s discomfort.

     There was a movement close to her, and Judy suddenly saw the figure draped in black that sat on the plush Victorian couch to her right. In front of them was a small marble table, and there were two other couches on their left and right. The mammal seemed to be staring directly at the wall, as given away by their muzzle shaping their veil. Judy watched them for a moment to see if they would move again.

     The figure remained still.

     Judy slowly nodded then looked around the room. It suddenly hit her that all the servants in the room happened to be female. The were all dressed in long, dark skirts with subtle gray bodices, white flowing blouses underneath. Judy looked back at the lace and tulle figure on the couch. She chuckled.

     “So, uh…” she began with a subtle cough, “Which one of you is the lady of the house?”

     “Speak to me,” Skye said immediately.

     Judy jumped.

     “I shall answer for her,” Skye continued with a cold confidence. “What is your business?”

     Judy nodded and stood her feet a little apart. She placed her paws behind her back, then looked confidently back up at Skye. She took a deep breath.

_      “Most radiant,” _ she began, attempting to match Nick’s tone perfectly,  _ “Most exquisite, most unnatural beauty…” _

     Bellwether gave Skye a discreet look. Skye kept her eyes glued to the wall, unresponsive.

     Suddenly, Judy trailed off, and her chest deflated. She quickly cleared her throat.

     “Uh, I’m sorry,” she said, dropping her posture, “But are--are you, are you the lady? Th-The Lady Skye? ‘Cause, y’know, I’ve never seen her so I don’t know what she looks like. I wanna make sure I’m giving this speech to her because...well, I mean, it’s a really good speech, you know?”

     Skye’s eyes slowly pried away from the wall as her face slowly began to turn towards Judy.

     “I mean, I spent a lot of time and energy memorizing this thing,” Judy continued, unconsciously scratching her head, “I don’t just wanna waste it on some random servant, you know? That’d just be kinda awkward…”

     Skye stared at Judy long and hard. They looked at each other for a while in silence. Before the tension had time to build to the point of overflowing, Skye slowly took a breath.

     “Where did you come from, sir?” she asked with a controlled voice.

     Judy stared blankly at her. Her eyes darted awkwardly around the room.

     “Thats’--that’s not in the script.”

     “I--beg your pardon?”

     “That’s not in my script,” Judy repeated. “I memorized everything I was supposed to say today and that’s not part of it. I--I dunno how to answer that.”

     Bellwether glanced at Skye incredulously. Skye’s eyes had grown to about twice their normal size, laser-locked on Judy.

     “Look, just--” Judy said with a shrug, “--just tell me if you’re the Lady Skye or not, okay? I haven’t got all day, I’ve got a fencing match at four--”

     “Are you--” Skye interrupted suddenly, “Are you an  _ actor?” _

     Judy smirked as a violent snort escaped her.

     “Uh,  _ no, _ ” she said with a chuckle.

_      ‘Although I admit,’ _ she thought,  _ ‘I’m definitely not the person I’m pretending to be…’ _

     Skye sighed and looked back towards the wall with resignation. After a moment, she nodded.

     “Alright,” she said, “If you are absolutely dying to know:  _ yes, _ I  _ am _ the Lady of the House...unless I do usurp myself.”

     “Well, you do,” Judy said. She gestured to Skye’s veil. “What’s yours to give is not yours to keep for yourself, is it?”

     Skye shot an astonished glare back to Bellwether. Bellwether gawked back at her.

     “Sorry,” Judy muttered somewhat sheepishly, “None of that was in the script either. I’ll start with the speech again, then I’ll get to the point.”

     As Judy took a deep breath, Skye raised a paw. Judy stopped.

     “Jump to the point  _ now, _ why don’t you?” Skye said coldly. “You can spare me the prose this time around.”

     “Oh,” Judy said, a bit surprised. She cocked an eyebrow. “Well,” she said, “That’s a shame, cuz I spent a  _ really  _ long time memorizing it--”

     “Well is it really from the heart, then?” Skye replied sharply. 

     Judy snickered to herself and nodded carefully. “Yeah,” she breathed, “You got a point there…”

     Skye slowly stood up, rising above Judy in height. Judy craned her neck a little to look up at her. She swallowed.

     “Listen here,  _ sir _ ,” Skye began, “The only reason I let you in here was because I heard how incredibly rude you were being at the gate. Through some morbid curiosity, I decided to let you in. Now I see that you’re either just plain crazy, or you have absolutely zero regard for authority. If you have something to say, say it; if you don’t, then get out.”

     Judy stared at Skye, wide-eyed. She glanced over at Bellwether, standing at the door on the other side of the room. She quickly popped it open with a smile.

     “Well!” Bellwether piped, gesturing to the open doorway, “Will you hoist sail, sir?”

     A slow smirk appeared on Judy’s face. She shook her head.

     “Not quite yet, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m not done yet.” 

     She glanced back up at Skye. Skye glared down at her in response.

     “What do you want.” she demanded.

     “Well,” Judy said, “I am a messenger. I’m here to deliver a message.”

     “Must be a horrendous message, the way you’ve treated its delivery thus far,” Skye said, tossing her paw angrily into the air. “What’s it about?” she asked.

     “You,” said Judy. “It’s nothing bad, don’t worry, I’m not--making demands, or anything like that.”

     “Then why are you being so ru--who  _ are _ you?” Skye stammered, placing her paws on her hips. “What do you  _ want _ ?”

     Judy smoothed out her coat and let out a sigh.

     “Listen,” she began calmly, “The only reason i’m being such a jerk right now is because of the way those other mammals out at the gate treated me. I thought that’s just how everybody treated each other around here.”

     Skye’s paws fell from her hips and hopelessly dangled at her sides for a moment. She sighed, and she brought a paw the bridge of her muzzle for a moment. Judy threw up her arms in protest.

     “Just--just  _ listen _ ,” she said. “Who I am, what I want-- _ all _ of that, it’s a secret. Alright? It’s for your ears only. I can’t tell you anything unless it’s just you and me.”

     “It’s alright,” Skye said, turning to look at the other servants, “They won’t tell anyone. They all understand that nothing will leave this room.”

     “I don’t think you understand, my lady,” Judy said. “I was given direct orders, and I can’t disobey them.”

     Skye rolled her eyes.

     “Oh, sweet cheese and--alright, you heard him,” Skye said, annoyed. “Everybody out.”

     “E-Everyone, madam?”

     “Yes, everybody,” Skye said coldly to Bellwether. “Apparently, I am about to be blessed with a godsend, for my ears only…”

     The servants quickly cleared out of the room, and within a second, Bellwether slowly and gently closed the door behind them. The room sat in silence for a moment, the tense atmosphere crackling like electricity.

     “Alright,” Skye said. She gently sat down on the couch. “What is your message, sir?”

     Judy nodded enthusiastically and took her stance. She took a deep breath and puffed out her chest.

_      “...Most sweet lady--” _

     “Oh, ‘sweet’! How wonderful,” Skye droned monotonously. “This is all quite new and interesting. From where comes these praises?”

     Judy’s chest fell, and she broke back into her natural posture.

     “Why, uh...from the Duke Nicholas’s heart,” she said.

     Skye raised an eyebrow and smirked sarcastically.

     “ _ From his heart _ ,” she repeated. “What chapter, may I ask?”

     “Well...” Judy said uncertainly, “I guess the  _ first. _ ”

     “Oh, no need then,” Skye said with a yawn, raising a paw over her mouth, “I’ve heard it all already, and quite frankly, it’s garbage….do you have anything else that might interest me?”

     “Erm...Madam, if you don’t mind,” Judy said, inching closer, “I’d like it if you could lift your veil. I’d prefer it if I could actually  _ see _ who I’m talking to.”

     “Oh,” Skye said, “Was that in your orders too?”

     Judy opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Skye stood up and began to walk towards the fireplace.

     “You’re beginning to step out of line, sir,” Skye said over her shoulder, “and I don’t appreciate it very much…”

     Skye fiddled with a couple items on the mantlepiece. After a brief moment, she turned to face Judy. Judy waited intently.

     “However…” she said carefully, “...I’ll choose to grant your... _ burning _ request.”

     Skye’s paws rose to the edges of the fabric that rested below her chin. She pinched them gently, and she slowly began to unveil herself. The tulle glided carefully through the air, floating up past her chin, her nose, and finally her eyes. At last, the veil came to rest behind her head, her face revealed. 

     Judy gawked.

     “Well,” Skye said, “What are your thoughts, sir? Happy?”

_      ‘Sweet cheese and crackers, she’s  _ gorgeous _ ,’ _ Judy thought. She quickly cleared her throat.

     “My lady,” Judy managed, “You have a very natural beauty, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

     “Oh,” said Skye, “I don't mind at all. Hasn’t been the first time I’ve been told of my beauty...I believe your lord can vouch for that.”

     “Understandably so,” Judy said with a smirk. She began to walk around the couch, slowly closing the gap between them. “Surely you won’t be so cruel as to let these looks die with you?”

     “Well, of  _ course _ not,” Skye said. “What kind of animal would I be if I didn’t even leave so much as an inventory?  _ Item one: two lips, ordinary in color; Item two: two gray eyes, with lids to match; Item three, four, five: cheeks, chin, neck, _ and so on.”

     Skye could feel her lips beginning to slip into a subtle smile. She quickly stifled it.

     “Truly,” she said, “You weren’t sent here to  _ only _ tell me how pretty I am, right?”

     Judy smiled at her smugly for a couple moments, sitting comfortably in the silence. She nodded knowingly.

     “I get it,” she said. “I see what you’re like. I understand.”

     “Oh?” Skye said, cocking an eyebrow. “Well, do tell. I’m absolutely  _ dying _ to hear your opinion.”

     Judy chuckled and placed a paw on the back of the couch next to her. She leaned on it and raised a finger at Skye.

     “You wanna know what you are?” Judy asked. Her lips curled further into a grin. “You are  _ proud. _ You are practically bursting at the  _ seams _ with pride...I can see it carve into the air whenever you let words leave your mouth.”

     Skye examined Judy carefully. She didn’t glare, or freeze, or mold her face expressionless.

     She simply listened.

     “Look,” Judy said, plopping down onto the couch in front of her, “The duke loves you, alright? Beyond quantifiable bounds. The least you should do in return is give him even just--even just a fraction of your own! Isn’t that what he deserves?”

     Skye sighed and sat down on the couch across from Judy.

     “Listen,” she said carefully. “Wilde  _ knows _ what I think of him. I’ve told him time and time again, and I just...I...I  _ can’t _ love him.”

     Judy’s ears drooped.

     “I mean, I’ve nothing against him,” Skye continued, “I’ve heard he’s rich, young, generous and brave and all of that...I’ve, uh, heard he’s quite the looker, too…”

_      ‘Sweetheart, you don’t even know,’  _ a voice in Judy’s head echoed.

     “...but I just cannot bring myself to have any feelings like that for him!” Skye said, looking up at Judy. “I mean, I’ve already told him this, I don’t--I don’t know what else to do at this point…”

     Judy kicked her legs up and over the arm of the couch. She leaned back on an elbow.

     “You know,” she said, glancing at her claws, “If I loved you as much as...no, even  _ half _ as much as my lord does, I would not be able to understand your rejection of me in the slightest...like, it would--it would just make  _ no sense _ to me whatsoever...”

     Skye looked at Judy on the couch, and an interesting feeling began to seep through her veins. She breathed out a chuckle.

     “Really?” She said. “And what would you do about it?”

     A slow smirk appeared on Judy’s face.

     “You wanna know what I’d do about it?”

     “Sure, how would you cope with such a tragedy?”

     “Okay, okay...”

     Skye chuckled as Judy crouched on her feet, still balancing on the cushions of the couch. She held out her paws theatrically.

     “Okay, so...so  _ first _ \--” Judy said, locking eyes with Skye, “First, I would build a-a little log cabin. Right outside your window. Just a tiny little thing where I could just sit and remind you, constantly, that you’re absolutely tearing me apart. You know? Every day you wake up, look outside, ‘Uhp! There sh--there he is again, looking absolutely miserable as usual’--”

     Skye giggled and brought a paw up to her mouth, still watching Judy intently. Judy adjusted her crouch, laughing quietly to herself.

     “That’s not it though, that’s not it,” Judy said, raising a paw, “I would--oh yeah, I would start writing songs about it. About how this beautiful vixen denied my love and just obliterated my heart. I’d make ‘em super cheesey, too--but not too bad, only cheesey enough that you still find them charming, you know?”

     “And you’d just sing them to me whenever I pass by?” Skye asked with a chuckle.

     “Wait wait wait, that’s not even the best part!” Judy said, standing up on the couch. “At night, when you’re just about to fall asleep--I’d open up my cabin window, I’d face the mountains, and then I’d just call your name at the top of my lungs. You know? Just this heartbroken wail to echo through the night! It’d be like  _ this _ , it’d be like: ‘ _ OHHHHH, SKYYEEEEE’-- _ ”

     Skye jumped up from the couch and tried to shush her, but she could barely keep herself together. She clutched her sides and raised a wavering finger to her lips, wheezing with laughter. Judy laughed with her, then suddenly tilted her head back for another heartbroken bellow. Skye yelped giddily in protest, sputtering about alerting the other servants in the house. After a moment of laughter, the two of them sat back down, breathing heavily. Skye quickly whipped out a black fan and began to fan herself with it.

     “Ohhhh my…” she wheezed, “That was...my goodness, I haven’t laughed this hard in  _ months… _ ”

     “Oh, madam, I wouldn’t laugh,” Judy panted with a contented smile, “I am  _ most serious _ about my efforts…”

     The two of them shared another laugh. The silliness died down once again, and they began to sink into their cushions. They beamed at each other. 

     Skye turned her fan towards Judy and began to fan in her direction.

     “There,” she breathed, “Do you need some?”

     “Oh, yes, thank you madam…”

     Judy splayed out her arms and her eyes rolled backwards, a caricature of perfect bliss. Skye giggled and happily fanned her for a moment, then sighed and let her fan fall to her side. Skye looked Judy up and down, scanning her. 

     “Who...who are you?” She asked. “What’s your status?”

     Judy lifted her head and looked at her. She smiled warmly.

     “Well,” she said, “Below my master, but not below honor. I am a gentleman.”

     The corner of Skye’s mouth lifted into a smile. She looked down at her feet a moment, lost in thought.

     “Look,” she said, sitting up a bit, “I’m sorry, but...but tell your master that I cannot love him. I just won't be able to bring myself to. Also, please tell him not to send any more messengers.”

     Judy sighed and began to stand up. Skye quickly sat forward on the couch.

     “Except!” she interjected, “That is, um...if-if you return to tell me how he takes the news, I wouldn’t mind it very much, I think it’d...uh...you know what? Here.”

     Skye quickly stood up and walked over to the fireplace. She removed a tin from the mantle and removed a few pieces of gold from within it. She presented them to Judy.

     “Here’s for your troubles,” Skye said, eyeing Judy carefully. “This was probably a waste of your time, and I’d like to repay you for it.”

     Judy chuckled awkwardly and gently pushed her paw against Skye’s outstretched palm.

     “I appreciate the offer,” Judy said, “But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.There's no payment for me to receive...but, I may add that your company alone is reward enough…”

     Skye turned a shade of bright pink through her fur.

     “And, again,” Judy said, heading towards the door, “It’s the duke who’s really missing his repayment, right?”

     Judy popped open the door and stepped back out onto the patio. She turned around and gave Skye a casual salute.

     “I’ll find my way out,” she said cheerfully. She gave a polite bow. “Farewell, fair cruelty…”

     And with that, the door closed.

     Skye waited a moment, frozen, her ears listening for the rabbits fading footsteps.

     He had left.

     Skye suddenly stumbled and threw herself onto a couch with a pained whimper, her head and heart spinning. Her eyes quickly darted around the room as she took deep, labored breaths. A fragment of their conversation played on repeat in her head.

_      ‘Who are you? What’s your status?’ _

_      ‘Well...below my master, but not below honor. I am a gentleman.’ _

     By god, he  _ was _ .

     Skye quickly stood up and began to pace the room, cradling her temples with her fingers. She began to unconsciously mutter to herself.

     His face, his figure, his speech, his gait, his wit, his soul: it was unbelievable. He was absolutely perfect in every aspect. He was beautiful, he was amazing, he was the most perfect mammal she had ever met--

     “...okay okay okay, slow down, slow down...”

     Mammals didn’t fall in love this quickly. That’s not how it worked. It took years to get to know somebody, to get to form a strong and intimate relationship with them, to form a…

     An idea hit Skye’s brain like a brick.

     She ran over to the tin on the mantle and began to frantically rummage through it. She desperately dug something out of it, then she whirled around and quickly burst through the doors. She barreled across the patio and dashed towards the sculpture garden. However, Skye caught something out of the corner of her eye which made her skid to a stop.

     “--Bogo!  _ BOGO!! _ ”

     The water buffalo jumped and quickly turned, a startled look on his face. Skye ran up to him, clutching something with her paw. Bogo frantically adjusted his glasses.

     “Y-Yes, madam?”

     “Catch up with that messenger!” Skye panted, quickly putting on a frown. “He--he left something with me, I need you to give--it back to him...despite what I repeatedly insisted, he left me this ring from the duke!”

     Skye presented her open paw, a simple golden band resting inside. Bogo leaned down and peered at it.

     “Well! How absolutely incons--”

     “Yes!” Skye spat, “Just tell him that I’ll have absolutely nothing to do with it. Also, tell him to let his master know that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. If he’d like to speak further with me on the matter, I give him permission to return.”

     “You--you give him permission to--”

     “Yes, I do!” Skye said, glancing towards the gate, “Now...now go catch up with him before it’s too late!”

     Bogo quickly looked at the ring, looked at Skye, then looked back at the gate. With one swift movement, he snatched the ring from Skye’s paw and darted off towards the gate.

     As Skye watched Bogo tear across the lawn, she replayed her conversation with the strange messenger in her head. She felt herself smiling as she recalled his warm and inviting face…

     The subtle pangs of love began to seep into her heart.


	10. Aye, There's The Rub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins have epiphanies...

     The path back to the duke’s manor was a scenic one; one that Judy found herself to quite enjoy. The sandy cobblestone path rutted against the green grass, the edge of the amber cliff toppling over to the beautiful, roaring sea below. Some seagulls lazily circled the air, dancing among the clouds. The whole scene had a very serene element to it, and it helped Judy to relax.

     The encounter with the Duchess had been...interesting, to say the least. Judy had heard all the stories, but she never would have imagined her to be  _ that _ damn frigid. Not even some of Judy’s great aunts could compete with this vixen’s level of iciness. 

     Then again, she  _ had _ begun to melt a little. The further they had talked, the Duchess had become more than just some foreboding figure, but a real, tactile mammal. An almost  _ amicable _ one, at that. She became understandable, and Judy had felt the awkward disconnect slowly disintegrating the longer she spent with her. 

     Judy’s thoughts were interrupted by the distant trudging of hooves through gravel, accompanied by heavy, labored breaths. As Judy began to diminish her pace, she slowly turned around.

     In the distance, a large Water Buffalo was jogging towards her. As he got closer, Judy could see that he was struggling a bit, and that his face was laced with fury. He raised a fuming finger.

_      “...YOU!” _

     Judy gawked at the rapidly approaching buffalo, frozen in place.

     “M--me? Sir?”

_      “...YES! S...STAY THERE!” _

     As the buffalo slowed down, Judy recognized him as one of Skye’s servants. Specifically, the one she had spoken to at the gate. He had given her a hard time, and in return, she had been just as creatively stubborn.

     He couldn’t  _ possibly _ still be caught up on that, could he?

     Bogo was now at a breathless stumble, clutching his chest tightly. He came to a stop, slowly buckling over and placing his hooves firmly on his knees. His back heaved with every breath that he took. Judy didn’t dare move.

     “...S-sir?”

     Bogo threw up a forceful finger, his eyes still glued to the ground. Judy immediately clamped her mouth shut. Bogo took a moment to wheeze out a couple more breaths before finally standing back up, straight and tall. He reached into his jacket and began to dig around.

     “You were just at the Duchess’s residence, yes?”

     Judy stared at him for a moment.

     “...Yes,” she said, “I’ve only since reached here, until you stopped me--”

     “Well!” Bogo said, prying his hoof out of his jacket, “The Lady Skye told me that she will have absolutely nothing to do with  _ this… _ ”

     Bogo held out an open hoof, revealing a small, golden band resting in his palm. Judy looked at it plainly.

     “...Um... _ okay _ …”

     “She’s giving it  _ back _ to you,” Bogo enunciated. “I thought I had stated that clearly enough.”

     “Giving it  _ back? _ ”

     “She wants you to be very clear to your master that she does--and will, in the future--refuse such offers from your lord,” he continued. “She returns this ring, and she does not wish to receive any others like it.”

     Judy stared at Bogo, then looked down at the ring, her mouth stuck with words.

     “Maybe next time you will  _ listen _ to her before you just  _ leave _ it with her,” Bogo grumbled, “Lord knows you would’ve saved  _ me _ the trouble…”

     “I...I don’t... _ no, _ ” Judy stammered. “I-It’s not my ring, I don’t want it.”

     “Sir, I am telling you, she will have none of it--”

     “And I am telling you, I don’t  _ want _ it.”

     Bogo glared at Judy long and hard. His hoof trembled with visible anger. Judy watched it in fearful anticipation.

     Bogo let out a sigh.

_      “Fine.” _

     With a controlled toss, the ring landed at Judy’s feet. Bogo turned around and began to tread back down the sandy path, back towards the Duchess’s mansion.

     “What?” Judy called, “What are you doing?”

     “I was given my orders,” Bogo threw back over his shoulder. “If you want the ring, grab it, if you don’t leave it. I  _ do not care _ what you decide to do with it, just as long as it’s not with  _ me _ .”

     Judy looked down at the ring at her feet. She bent down and picked up out of the gravel with her fingers. She examined it carefully in her paw, watching the sunlight bounce of the curves. She looked back up at Bogo, who seemed too busy storming away to look back at her.

_      What _ in the  _ world _ ?

     Judy definitely hadn’t left any ring with Skye. She had never seen this ring before in her life. Nick hadn’t given her one to deliver, there wasn’t any mention of one in her orders...the whole thing didn’t make a lot of sense. Why would Skye return a ring she hadn’t delivered in the first place? 

     Judy looked back at the ring in her hand. She saw her golden image distorted and wobbly in the metal, and the reflection cast a golden stripe across her face. She thought back to her encounter with Skye from almost half an hour before. 

     She had been acting strange throughout the whole thing. It was as if within 10 minutes, she had completely changed her personality. She had gone from a cold and distant duchess to a giggly and awkward sweetheart. It was almost like two different mammals.

     Judy remembered the look on her face when she was leaving. It was as if she was hurt in some way, almost like she didn’t want her to leave.

     It was almost like she was in love with her or…

     Judy suddenly froze, her fur standing on end.

     ...Oh no.

     ... _Oh_ **_no_** _._

     The ring slowly slipped out of Judy’s fingers and fell to the ground. One thought after another came crashing down into an epiphany on repeat in her head, the world around her whirling faster than she was able to keep up with. She opened her mouth to speak, to cry out, to do  _ something _ , but all that came out was a tiny, pathetic squeak.

_      Skye _ was in  _ love _ with her.

     ...But she was in love with  _ fake _ her, not  _ real _ her.

     ...The  _ guy _ her.

     ...But she was a  _ girl _ her.

     But Skye  _ certainly _ did not know  _ that _ .

     Judy’s paws clamped onto her head as she began to pace, mumbling to herself. Her brain was running at a million miles an hour, and her mouth couldn’t quite keep up.

     She  _ had _ been acting weird near the end of the meeting. She had stammered and sputtered, and had lost all sense of self-authority. The fact that she was insisting that Judy had left a ring with her…

     Judy looked down at the ring, lying on the ground. A lightbulb lit up.

     “Sweet cheese and crackers…”

_      Of course _ Skye had sent a ring. She wanted her to come back. If Skye had chased Judy herself, it would’ve been too obvious. She wanted it to be a secret, a surprise, a…

     “I’m...I’m the guy she wants…”

     The words fell from Judy’s mouth like boulders. She quickly bent down and plucked the ring from the gravel. She stared at it for a moment, processing.

     Nick loved Skye. That went without saying. In addition, Judy loved Nick. That had been working out spectacularly so far.

     ...And finally, Skye loved Judy.

     “...No, she loves  _ Jack, _ ” Judy muttered quietly to herself, looking at the distorted black stripes in the curve of the ring. “But she doesn’t... _ I’m _ Jack, but she doesn’t...know…”

     Judy helplessly looked up at the sky. She let out a prolonged sigh.  

     What the absolute  _ hell _ was she supposed to do?

* * *

     “You’re going  _ where?” _

     “I just told you,” Jack said, throwing his feet over the edge of the bed, “I’m going to Zootopia.”

     Jack reached down to fumble for his boots, somewhere on the dusty floor. He and Manchas had been able to pool enough money to rent a room at an inn near the docks of Elkenfreid. Jack had spent most of the day in a catatonic state, wrapped up in bed, while Manchas had gone out to ask around for any merchants or sailors heading towards Meadowsaven. During that time, he had done a lot of thinking. The only way to ensure a voyage to Meadowsaven was to buy a ship and crew himself. In order to do that, he’d need money, and in order to earn money, he’d need to get a well-paying job.

     This meant nothing else but going to the Isle.

     “W--what do you--why?” Manchas stammered, “I’m glad you feel well enough now to get up, but Zootopia--that’s not what I had in mind--”

     “It’s what I’ve gotta do,” said Jack. “I need a job, and to get a job, I’ll have to go  _ there _ .”

     “There’s plenty of jobs  _ here _ ,” Manchas said. “Why not just get one at the pub, or-or the market, or--”

     “I don’t have that much time,” Jack said. “My uncle’s expecting me to show up within the next month, at least. I need to get as  _ much _ as I can, as  _ quick _ as I can--”

     “But does that mean getting a job in Zootopia?”

_      “Yes,” _ Jack said sternly. “You said it yourself, Renato, the richest mammals in the Eastern Hemisphere live there,  _ they’re _ gonna be the ones giving out the big wages.”

     “Where are you going to get a boat, Jack?”

     Jack opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He slowly deflated. Manchas watched painfully as Jack’s ears weakly fell onto his back. He sighed.

     “I didn’t mean to just step on you like that,” Manchas said, “but--”

     “I can--I can talk to somebody, a merchant or someone, and they can--”

     “These mammals are going to want money, Jack,” said Manchas. “How are you going to get it?”

     Jack responded with silence, staring down at his feet. He brought his knees up into his chest and wrapped his arms around them. After a moment, his head lightly plopped back down on the pillow.

     There was a long silence.

     Manchas sighed. He walked over towards a desk in the corner and began to rustle through his bag.

     “Look,” he said. “I...I realize that this is important to you. This...this right here is something that I’ve been keeping for a while, and...I--I want you to have it...”

     Something landed on the bed next to Jack. He rolled over to see a brown leather drawstring sack sitting on the mattress. He sat up and grabbed it. His fingers dug inside and pulled it open. Inside the bag sat a sizeable grouping of gold coins, practically filled to the brim. Jack looked up at Manchas, shocked.

     “Y--you have...how--”

     “I’ve been adding to it over the years,” Manchas said, “Keeping it in the case of an emergency.”

     Jack looked back down at the sack in awe. Manchas leaned against the wall.

     “I would call this an emergency,” he said gently.

     “Renato, I--I can’t,” Jack said, “This is your money, I’m not going to just--”

     “I have no need for it,” Manchas said. “You do. Take it.”

     Jack stared at Manchas, his brow furrowed. 

     “No,” he said. “I can’t.”

     “Yes you can.”

     Jack swallowed. He scooted closer to Manchas.

     “Then--then come  _ with _ me, at least,” he said. “This is your money, you might as well use the boat it’s paying for.”

     Manchas averted his eyes and turned away. He began to pace about the room. Jack watched him, confused.

     “What?”

     “No.”

     “...‘No’?”

_      “No,” _ Manchas repeated, turning to Jack. “I can’t.”

     “Wh--sure you can,” Jack said, rising to his knees, “Why can’t you--”

     “I-I just can’t.”

     Manchas stared at Jack, his eyes laced with anxiety. Jack’s ears fell onto his back.

     “...What?” he asked.

     Manchas sighed and crossed his arms. He leaned back against the wall.

     “I have, uh...there is...alright. I am not on, uh... _ excellent terms _ with one of the mammals on that island,” Manchas said carefully. “A, uh, duke, to be specific.”

     “Why?”

     “It’s a long story,” Manchas said, looking at the ground. “But that duke holds a lot of power, and if I am seen by him, then...well, it will not be very good for me…”

     There was a long silence as Jack looked at him. Manchas scratched the back of his neck, his eyes glued to his feet. Jack’s paws fell into his lap.

     “Then I can’t take your money.”

     Manchas looked up at him.

     “Yes, you _can_ …”

     “No, I can’t,” Jack said. “I already told you, I need to do this for myself, and this is just--”

     “I’m not asking you to spend  _ all _ of it,” Manchas interrupted. He took a step away from the wall. “I’m just asking to take what you need.”

     Jack stared back at him in silence. Manchas stepped forward and placed his paws on the mattress. He looked at Jack, his eyes full of meaning.

     “I am here to help you,” he said. “To my fullest extent.”

     Jack looked helplessly back down at the coins. Manchas placed a careful paw on his shoulder, and Jack looked back up at him.

     “Go find a boat.”


	11. The Art of Being Merry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lionheart and Clawhauser can't help but attract a crowd, especially at this hour...

     The estate was shrouded in darkness and silence. Not a bird chirped, not an insect buzzed, not a single wisp of wind flitted through the trees. All was dark and quiet on the property, the only path of light from the moon hanging in the sky.

     The silence was quickly broken, however, when a loud crash came from the kitchen.

     Clawhauser’s eyes darted to the empty pot he had just knocked onto the tiled floor. Lionheart clumsily turned around and brought a wavering finger to his lips.

_“...Shh--ShhhhhHhhHhh…”_

     Clawhauser nodded, and he clamped a paw onto the stove to balance himself. He slowly bent down, legs wobbling, and awkwardly grabbed the pot by the handle. He took it and slid it back onto the stove with a clang. He let go of the stove, and he began to tip backwards. He quickly steadied himself.

     Lionheart grabbed the knob of a cabinet and haphazardly swung it open. He dipped his head inside.

_“...Hellooooo…”_ he sang quietly.

_“Have...di--uh...did you fine anything?”_ Clawhauser whispered.

_“N--Nope,”_ Lionheart said, _“That’s just--with the, uh--that’s the flour…”_

     Lionheart pushed the cabinet shut. He began to stumble towards the walk-in ice closet on the other side of the room. Clawhauser remained by the stove, lost in thought.

_“...What?”_ he said quietly. _“Whywoul...who w’d wannakeep flowers in a_ cupboard _…?”_

_“...No, that’s not--no.”_

     Clawhauser looked over to Lionheart, fiddling with the handle of the fridge.

_“Hey. Hey. Hey Leo.”_

_“What?”_

_“...Hey Leo.”_

_“What, Ben?”_

_“What timesit?”_

     Lionheart looked up at the clock on the wall. It read 2:03 a.m.

_“It’s morning,”_ he said. _“How wonde-how perfect.”_

_“...Wh-what?”_ Clawhauser slurred, _“Whaddy...whaddyoumean?”_

_“That’s when we’re--supposed to be up, right?”_ Lionheart said, limply slapping his paw around the handle of the large steel door, _“We’re supposed to get up early in th morning, and we’re--here we are.”_

     One of the large double doors that lead to the dining room swung open. Clawhauser and Lionheart looked up, two deer caught in headlights.

     Yax stood in the doorway, a knowing smirk on his face. He snickered.

     “Well, look who it is,” he chuckled. “Nice of you two to show up.”

     “Yax!” Lionheart said, throwing his arms up in satisfaction. “There you are! Come, come joi--would you like to--uh, take uh, take a seat…”

     Yax sauntered into the kitchen and grabbed a stool next to one of the large wooden tables. He dragged it away from the table. He moved some platters of cheese and fish to the side, and plopped down on top of the table next to them. Lionheart began to stumble over.

     “Once again, the three fools are reunited,” Yax said, placing his hooves behind him.

     “Yax, you--why don’t you sing us a song?” Lionheart stammered, carefully walking over to the table. “Yes, sing a--yes.”

     “What’re you two looking for?”

     “We can’t fine the...we ranoutta booze,” Clawhauser said, tiptoeing to the table.

     “Come on, a song, let’s hear one!”

     “...Oh, yeah, I--you’ve got sucha nice _voice_ ,” Clawhauser babbled, placing his paws firmly on top of a stool, “You sang something for...for something earlier todayand, and it was so good, andihwas so pretty, and, and, and…”

     “For sure, man, yeah,” Yax chuckled, raising his hooves, “I’ll sing you guys somethin’...Whaddya guys want, a love song, a ballad…?”

     “Let’s hear a love song,” Lionheart said, plopping himself on top of a stool. “Serenade me, Yax, let’s hear it.”

     Clawhauser burst into a bout of wheezy giggles, raising a clenched paw to his mouth. Yax brought his legs up onto the table and folded them underneath himself.

     “Alright, a love song…” Yax said, staring up at the ceiling, “I left my mandolin in my bag, man, I hope that’s cool with you…”

     “Oh, who gives a frog’s _ass_ about the mando--go, sing!” Lionheart chanted pompously, “Let’s hear it!”

     Yax looked at Lionheart and Clawhauser sitting on the edge of their stools. A smile crept onto his face.

     “Alright,” he said, “I think I’ve got something…”

     Yax placed his hooves in his lap. He began to hum a simple melody to himself. Lionheart and Clawhauser listened as he hummed, lightly swaying with the tune. After a moment, he closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

_“O mistress mine, where are you roaming?_

_O, stay and hear: Your true love’s coming,_

_That can sing both high and low:_

_Trip no further, pretty sweeting._

_Journeys end in lovers meeting,_

_Every wise man’s son doth know…”_

     The notes lightly floated through the dusty air around them, like silk caught in a gentle breeze. Lionheart and Clawhauser watched Yax, entranced. Time had seemed to slow to a standstill--the stars and moon caught in the sky--and the universe stopped to listen as Yax’s gentle voice continued to flow.

_“What is love? 'Tis not hereafter._

_Present mirth hath present laughter._

_What’s to come is still unsure._

_In delay there lies no plenty._

_Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty._

_Youth’s a stuff will not endure…”_

     There was a long silence, the ghost of the notes still sifting through the air. The three sat in quiet anticipation for what seemed like a century. Finally, Yax opened his eyes and looked at them. He smirked and shrugged.

     “Welp,” he said, “That was that, huh?”

     “Yax, that…” Clawhauser sniffled, tears welling in his eyes, “That was _beautiful…_ ”

     “Excellently sung, excellently,” said Lionheart, “Absolutely---very good, that wa--very good.”

     They sat for a while in the silence, letting it comfortably linger.

     Suddenly, Lionheart stood up from his stool and began to march about the room. Calwhauser and Yax watched him.

     “Let’s continue!”

     Yax and Clawhauser eyed each other.

     “...What?”

     “Let’s, ah, let’s continue!” Lionheart repeated. “The songs! Something gaudier, more upbeat, someth--uh, let’s sing it together, something we all know…”

     “Sir Lionheart, I hate to be, like, a downer,” Yax said, “But I don’t know if this is the best time…”

     “Why not?” Leo said, whipping himself around. He steadied his feet. “It’s a party, isn’t it? Why can’t we j--a good drinking song, you know, something fun!”

     “Oh, oh, howabout we...uh…” Clawhauser said, furrowing his brow, “Let’s sing, uh, _‘Thou Knave’_. I like that one alot…”

     Yax turned to Clawhauser with a snicker.

     “ _‘Thou Knave’_?” Yax asked incredulously. “If I sing that, I’ll have to call you ‘knave’, man, it’s part of the song…”

     “Well, I me--is not a, w-wouldn’t be th first time,” Clawhauser struggled, awkwardly leaning his elbow on the table. “ _I_ think izza good song, and I wanna hear it, so, so, less sing it.”

     Yax rubbed his eyes and chuckled. He nodded.

     “Alright,” Yax said, “ _Thou Knave_ …you two ready?”

     “Yes!” Lionheart shouted. “Yes! Let’s--count us in, Yax, let’s--count us in, come…”

     Just at that moment, the double doors burst open. A small, frazzled lamb in horn-rimmed glasses and a nightgown stood in the doorway.

     The three stared at her in frightened silence.

_“Are...you...out...of...your...MINDS?!”_ She hissed at them.

     There was a long silence. Lionheart’s eyes darted about the room.

     “I...I don’t...I dunno what you mean--”

_“I can hear all of you from all the way upstairs!”_ Bellwether whispered. _“What on earth are you three_ doing _down here?! This is--and to think that the Lady’s considering kicking all of you out! She had just talked to me about it this afternoon--keep this up, and--”_

     “Oh, the Lady can set the house ablaze for all I care,” Lionheart said, stumbling around the table. “We’re just having a little fun is all! Why can’t w--what, _two_ mammals die, and we’re no longer allowed to do _anything_ around here. Just let us _live!_ ”

      _"Sir Lionheart,_ please _,"_ Bellwether said,  _"You have to take into account what time of night it is, and what your niece has been going through--"_

     Suddenly, Lionheart clamped his paws onto the seat of his stool. He carefully climbed on top of it, then stood up straight and tall. He threw up his arms theatrically.

_“THERE DWELT A MAMMAL IN BAAHBYLON, LAAAAADY, LAAAAADY--”_

_“Hush,_ hush _!”_ Bellwether whispered fearfully, balling up her hooves. _“You’re gonna wake her up--”_

_“--HE FALTERED AS THE NIGHT WENT ON, LAAAADY, SWEET AND FAAAAIIR…”_

     “He keeps this up,” Yax said, “I’ll be out of a job--”

_“OOOOON THE TWELFTH DAAAAY OF DECEMBER--”_

**“ARE YOU ALL MAD?!”**

 

     The four of them whirled around to see Bogo standing in the doorway, fuming. He was dressed haphazardly in his night robe, an ascot shoved into the collar. His eyes were bloodshot and wired, his mouth clamped into a furious frown. They could almost see the smoke billowing from his nostrils.

     “Do you have no common sense?!” he barked, his face turning red through his fur. “Or what have you? Do you wish to make an alehouse of my Lady’s house, is that your goal? You’re all behaving so savagely, so--so _horrid_ , so--do you have no sense of time?!”

     “Sure we do,” Lionheart said, casually gesturing with his paw, “We kept time in the song. Now, ec-excuse me--”

     “Lionheart!” Bogo said, “I wouldn’t be talking if I were you!”

     “Well, fine, I’ll sing, then--”

     “The Lady Skye gave me direct orders this very afternoon--” Bogo interrupted, “--that if you did not improve your drinking problem, she would have no choice but to have you removed from the property to live elsewhere. She believes that it’s about time you either got _yourself_ together, or got your _things_ together to _leave_.”

     Lionheart stared at Bogo long and hard, his mouth hanging loosely open. Suddenly, his body jolted with song.

_“Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone--”_

     “S-sir Lionheart, please, don’t--”

_“--My eyes do show my days are almost done!!!”_

     Bogo straightened up higher, his eyes ablaze.

     “So,” he said coldly, _“This_ is how it’s going to be, _is_ it?”

_“--BUT I WILL NEVER DIE!!!”_

 Yax snickered.  _“Sir Leo,”_ he  joined, _“There you lie…”_

     “--This is only adding fuel to the fire beneath your--”

_“Shall I bid him go?”_ Lionheart interrupted, looking to Yax.

     Yax, smirking, slowly began to stand up from his spot on the table.

_“What if you do?”_ he answered.

_“Shall I bid him go, and spare not?”_

_“Oh, no, sir,”_ Yax sang, _“You dare_ _not_ _.”_

     “Oh, that was--that was a little out of tune, wasn it?” Lionheart muttered.

     Lionheart turned to Bogo, stifling a belch. He raised an obstinate paw.

     “What, are you the royal guard now?” Lionheart said, stepping down from his stool. “Let--let’s be realistic here. I-I-we don-you’re the butler, alright? We get it! You’re proper, you’re uptight, you’ve got a stick up your--”

_“Sir Lionheart_ please--”

     “Shhhh-hshh, hush, Bellwether,” Lionheart said, waving a flimsy paw at her, “I’ll take care of this…”

     Lionheart steadied himself, then pushed away from the table and carefully stumbled towards Bogo. He raised his chin.

     “What,” he said, “You think that just because you’re, what? ‘Superior’, to us? That you get to tell us when and when not to have fun? I-is that what you think it is?”

     He took a step closer and leaned in towards Bogo’s face. He stared at him pensively.

     “You know what I think, Mr. Bogo?” he asked calmly. “I think you should go polish your steward’s chain. Maybe it’d remind you of your status.”

     Bogo’s fury boiled in his cheeks, his eyes ablaze. Lionheart turned back towards the table.

     “Not like you have anything else to do…” he threw over his shoulder.

     Lionheart sat back down heavily on the stool. He threw up his paws theatrically.

     “A stoup of wine, Miss Bellwether!” he said, “With a goblet for each of us! Come, come, it’s about time for another--just a quick round’s all we need to get the night started!”

     Clawhauser happily drummed his fingers on the table, a drunken grin spreading across his face. Yax chuckled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. As Bellwether looked fearfully between them, Bogo fixed his burning gaze upon her.

     “Miss Bellwether,” he managed through clenched teeth, “If you have any sense of respect for your lady, you will not encourage these... _animals_ in this crude behavior…”

     Bellwether stared back up at him, her brow furrowed with worry. Bogo straightened up and turned over his heel towards the doors.

     “The Lady will hear of this!” he said sternly, “I promise you!”

     And with that, the buffalo pushed through the doors and disappeared back into the night.

     The four of them listened carefully to his fading footsteps, their eyes glued to the doors, still lightly swinging. After a while, they finally dissipated. Bellwether turned back towards them, grumbling.

_“Oh, you go stuff your mouth with grass, you overgrown…”_

     Lionheart burst out laughing, clutching his chest with a paw. Bellwether jumped.

     “...W--what?”

     “Such colorful language, Miss Bellwether!” Lionheart wheezed. “Never heard anything half as heavy out of _your_ mouth!”

     “I’d--I’d really like t’ show him a thing’r two,” Clawhauser said, resting his chin in one of his paws. “Really have’m make a fool of ‘mself, y’know? Like, I could...I could challenge him to a duel, or something--”

     “Oh, Ben, not another duel--”

     “No no no, but--but here’s th thing,” Clawhauser said, raising his paws in protest, “I’d, like...I’d challenge him to one, and then just...never show up, y’know? Just leave ‘em waiting. That’d...heh...that’d be funny…”

     The three of them stared at him blankly for a moment. Yax snickered.

     “I don’t know, man,” he said, “Wouldn’t that make you look like a little bit of a coward? I mean, think about it.”

     Clawhauser stared at him with a confused frown plastered on his face, silent. After a moment, he spoke up.

     “I-I don’t under...whu, whuddyou mean?”

     “Gentlemen, listen,” Bellwether said, walking over towards the table and leaning her back against it, “Let’s calm down for the night, alright? Please? The Lady’s been in a really fragile mood since that...that messenger from _Wilde_ came this afternoon, and we don’t want to upset her further. Don’t you--don’t you think we all owe her that?”

     Clawhauser and Yax looked to Lionheart. He frowned.

     “But we’re in the middle of something here,” he said. “We’re plotting. Scheming. Aren’t we allowed to finish that?”

     “Oh, don’t worry about that,” she said off-handedly, looking down at her hooves, “I..I think I’ve got something in mind, anyways…”

     There was a long silence. Bellwether slowly looked back up to see the three men staring at her with astonished anticipation. Bellwether took a step back.

     “Wh-what?”

     “You said you had something in mind.”

     “W-well, yes, but I--”

     “What is it?”

     Bellwether looked between them, reading their expressions. Slowly, mischievous smile crept onto her lips.

     “Alright,” she said, “Alright, I’ll tell you…”

     The three scooted closer, eyes glued to her. She chuckled.

     “Okay, okay...so, um…” she began, fiddling with her hooves, “You know how...you know how much of a goody-two shoes he is, right?”

     They all nodded.

     “Okay, well, he _isn’t_ , really,” she said. “He just thinks he is. Right? He-he’s all just a bunch of hot air. He thinks he’s the best, and he tries to seem like it through the way he talks and acts, you know? He makes you think he’s nobility, or something, but he’s just a pretentious flatterer, that’s all he is!”

     Clawhauser and Lionheart laughed in satisfaction.

     “He thinks that everyobody else thinks he’s the best thing to walk the earth,” Bellwether continued. “He thinks everyone looks up to him, you know? So, I’m--I’m gonna use that to our advantage--”

     “Well, go on, j--spit it out!”

     “Okay! Okay,” Bellwether laughed, raising her hooves. She swallowed. “So. I don’t know if you know this, but my handwriting is really similar to the Lady Skye’s. As in, you could put two papers of ours together, and even _I_ wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

     “...Okay?”

     “ _So--_ so,” Bellwether said, “Here--here’s my idea: I write...a _love letter_.”

     Lionheart’s and Clawhauser’s faces slowly began to light up. Yax shook his head and snickered in disbelief, a giddy smile on his face.

     “I sign it as her,” Bellwether continued, with an excited grin, “And then I leave it in his path for him to find it. He reads it, he thinks it’s from Skye--”

     “--And he makes his advances,” Lionheart continued, “Rendering him a complete idiot in her eyes! Oh, Bellwether, this is _marvellous,_ this is--it’s _in_ _genious!_ I can’t think of any--”

     “Ohhhhhh, I _get_ it,” Clawhauser said, raising a finger. “I, I get it, that’s... _ohhhhhhohohoh,_ tha’s _good…_ ”

     “We can work out the details later,” Bellwether said with a chuckle. Her smile slowly faded. “For now, though, we...we really _should_ go to bed…”

     The cats’ ears drooped. After a moment, Lionheart sighed.

     “You’re right,” he said in resignation, “We should off to bed. We’ll follow you shortly, Bellwether.”

     Bellwether nodded and smiled tiredly. “Alright,” she whispered.

     The little lamb turned around and trotted back to the double doors, her nightgown flowing lightly behind her. With much effort, she shoved one back open, and then quickly disappeared behind it as it closed. Lionheart exhaled sharply through his nose.

     “She’s just adorable, isn’t she?”

     “...Hey, man,” Yax piped, tilting his head a little, “Are you, uh...are you allowed to call sheep that?”

     “We’re not going to bed,” Lionheart said plainly. “It’s too early.”

     “It’s--” Clawhauser stammered, looking at the clock, “It’s...it’s early morning though…”

     “Exactly,” Lionheart said, “Much too early…”

     Lionheart stood up with a grunt and began to walk around the table. Clawhauser clumsily followed suit, using the table to steady himself.

     “Let’s go back to our search,” Lionheart said to Clawhauser matter-of-factly, “How about it?”

     Lionheart began to pace towards the back door, which led to the side yard. Clawhauser waddled behind him.

     “We know we won’t find any in here…”

     The two of them slowly pushed through the door and stepped out onto the lawn. The door lightly closed behind them, leaving Yax to himself, still sitting quietly on the table. He sat there for a while in contented silence, unmoving.

     He looked up and watched the dust dance in the air for a while, a comfortable smile on his face.


	12. Love's Labours Quickly Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy is tasked once again to venture to Skye, but she and Nick have a very important talk...

     The sun filtered calmly through the leaves of the trees, casting a myriad of light over the white gazebo that sat in the middle of Nicholas Wilde’s garden. The gramophone was sitting a couple feet away from the plush outdoor chaise that Nick was sprawled on, his head almost hanging off the end of it. His foot drew lazy circles in the air as he listened to the melody.

     Judy, Finnick, and Honey were standing off to the side, at attention. It had been a day or so since Judy had returned with the ring, but Nick hadn’t reacted the way Judy had been expecting him to. He took the ring as a symbol of her love for him, and interpreted the wrongful accusation as a simple cover-up for her embarrassment. He was now drowning in even more of a lovesick puddle than before.

     What luck.

     Judy let out a quiet sigh, staring at out at the flower garden in the distance. She was dreading being sent back to Skye’s estate in more attempts of seduction. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was scared of Skye and how she would react, or if it was because she was scared of disappointing Nick. Either way, it was not something she was looking forward to.

     “I want to hear that song from the other night.”

     Judy, Finnick, and Honey looked over at Nick. He was staring up at the sky, his eyes lost in the clouds. Judy’s eyes darted between Honey and Finnick.

     “--I’m--I’m sorry?”

     “The song,” Nick repeated. “From last night. We had someone singing last night, they sang a song that I really liked, I want to hear it again.”

     “Oh,” Finnick said hesitantly. “Yax?”

     Nick raised his head and looked at them, raising an eyebrow.

     “Who?”

     “Skye’s jester,” Finnick said. “He comes back and forth between the two properties a lot...he’s, uh, the one you’re talking about. I mean, he was here last night, so, I think he’s, um, still on the property somewhere...”

     “He’s the one who sang that song last night?”

     “Yeah, I think so.”

     Nick stared at him for a moment. He scoffed and gave an annoyed shrug.

     “Well...are you going to go get him?”

     Finnick sighed and politely bowed his head.

     “Yes, sir…”

     Finnick turned over his shoulder and stormed out into the garden. Honey and Judy watched him as he cut across the lawn towards the stairs, muttering to himself. Another tune began to awaken on the gramophone next to the chaise. Nick sat up a little.

     “Jack,” he said, motioning a paw, “C’mere…”

     Judy carefully walked towards him, and came to a stop at the edge of the chaise. Nick shook his head and patted the seat next to him. Judy looked at the spot, then back up at him. She quickly and carefully sat down. Nick snickered.

     “Now, listen,” he said, placing his elbows on his knees. “When you fall in love--and trust me, it’s gonna happen, you’re gonna have does fallin’ head over heels for you--I want you to remember me. Alright?”

     Judy stared at him, a vacant expression plastered on her face. Her eyes darted away, then back to him.

     “Get ready for it to hit you,” Nick continued, “Because it’s going to hit you _hard_ . I mean, just look at _me,_ I’m so--so _invested_ , so overcome with...with _lethargy,_ with _lovesickness_ \--it will _completely_ change you. The only solace you’ll be able to find will be in the eyes of your beloved. Do you understand?”

     Judy swallowed and nodded in shallow agreement. She watched Nick for a moment, and confusion began to wash over her as his mouth slowly curled into a grin.

     “I know that look,” Nick chuckled. “You _do_ understand, don’t you? You’ve got your eyes on someone...”

     Judy’s heart stopped. The voice inside her head was screaming, alarms were sounding, wars were raging, the world was crumbling around her. All around her was fire, and her sanity was burning with it.

     On the outside, however, she simply blinked.

     “Come on,” Nick said slyly, a smirk prying at the corner of his mouth, “Don’t be shy…”

     Judy inhaled through her nose carefully. “Um...I, uh...I don’t know,” she said very carefully, trying her best to feign indifference. “Maybe a little bit, but, it’s--it’s not that big of a deal--”

     “Now, wait just a _second!_ ” Nick laughed, sitting up straighter on the chaise. “Don’t just shrug this off, I wanna hear this! C’mon give me the details! Like--alright--what does--what does she look like?”

     Judy took a deep breath. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. To cover her hesitation, she quickly closed it and placed a paw over it, putting on her best ‘thinking’ expression. Her eyes darted about the gazebo, trying to find a way out of this.

     “Well...she’s um...how do I put this…” she mumbled to herself, bouncing her leg. She swallowed. “I guess she’s sort of, um...she’s a bit, um...of--of _your_ complexion, actually...sir.”

     She looked away from Nick and stifled a grimace. Why did she say that? That was so stupid, ‘of your complexion’, how obvious was she trying to make herself? Best case scenario, he would think she’s _weird_ \--worst case scenario, he would realize that she’s a girl masquerading as a boy in order to earn money to sail back to her home, who’s stolen the name of her dead brother who drowned in the shipwreck that put her on this damned island in the first place--

     Her eyes slowly traced back up to Nick. He was staring at her, silent.

     Judy gulped.

     Suddenly, Nick tilted his head back and slapped his thigh, cackling. Judy, nervous, began to half-heartedly chuckle with him.

     “‘Of my comple--’ oh _god,_ ” Nick gasped, clutching his sides, “She should find herself a _surgeon_ then! A rabbit with _this_ face? Good god, she is _not_ for you, son! I tell you to run, alright? And run _far_.”

     Judy gave him a weak smile. She watched as Nick wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling.

     “‘Of my complexion’,” Nick repeated to himself, amused. “Sweet cheese and crackers, I _cannot_ believe that…”

     “Well, I-I mean--”

     “Never mind that now, now, tell me--uh,” Nick interrupted, scooting closer, “Tell me how old she is. Is she within your age range?”

     Judy cleared her throat.

     “Uh, yeah,” she said, straightening up, “Yeah, she’s um...actually, she’s around _your_ age, come to think of it--”

     “Whoa, wait wait wait, now, hold _on--_ ” Nick said, throwing up his paw, “You _do_ know how old I am, right?”

     Judy nodded carefully.

     “Yes. Yes, I--I think so--”

     “Jack, I am _thirty-two years old_ ,” Nick said. “You’re telling me this girl--no, this _woman_ \--is _eight years older than you?”_

     Judy looked at Nick helplessly, her words caught in her throat.

     “Jack, who _is_ this person?” Nick chuckled incredulously. “Out of all the does you could’ve chosen to reciprocate, you choose _this_ one?”

     “Well, I don’t know,” Judy said, “I just--I mean, you can’t really choose who you fall in love with, right? It...it just... _happens_ ...and it can be weird, and illogical, and not make any sense whatsoever, but...that doesn’t...that doesn’t _stop_ it.”

     Judy was looking down at her paws in her lap. She realized she was clenching them. She quickly released them and looked back up at Nick. His eyes locked with hers, his thoughts pooling behind them.

     “...Right?”

     They looked at each other in silence. After a moment, Nick broke the stare.

     “No,” he said, leaning back, “No, you’re right. You’re absolutely right. That’s a beautiful way to look at it, Jack I never thought of it that way before. Love is...really unpredictable...you know, you--you always amaze me with your endless wisdom, Jack, you know that? You’re young, but...you’re wise much beyond your years...”

     A subtle smile crept onto Judy’s lips. She politely nodded.

     “Thank you, sir.”

     Suddenly, Judy heard hooves clacking on the marble staircase. She looked back towards the balcony to see Finnick’s ears descending the stairs, followed by a matted Yak carrying a mandolin over his shoulder. The weight shifted on the chaise, and she heard Nick gasp.

     “Yes!” he shouted to them, “Perfect! That’s the man I’m looking for! Come, come quickly, let’s hear it!”

     Yax looked up, and he flashed his signature contented smile. He broke out into a lazy jog, brushing past an annoyed Finnick, causing the mandolin to awkwardly bob on his shoulder. Judy quickly stood up, smoothing her coat, and resumed her place next to Honey. The subtle scratch of the needle being lifted from the record flicked Judy’s ears.

     “Hey man,” Yax said, ascending the steps to the gazebo, “What’s goin’ on, what can I do for you?”

     “That song you did last night,” Nick said, sinking into the chaise, “The one about, um, the--I think it was _‘Come away, come away,’_ something…”

     “Oh yeah, for sure, _Ballad of Fallen Love._ I got you, man…”

     “Outstanding. Let’s hear it.”

     Yax nodded, and with a gust of air, placed himself on the ground. He crossed his legs and placed the mandolin in his lap, his fingers running along the strings. With a gentle strum, he checked to see if all the strings were in tune. He quickly and effortlessly adjusted one of the knobs, then straightened his posture.

     He closed his eyes.

     The music came out of the instrument as if it was alive. He barely touched it, and the chords rang through the air like smoke from the dying embers of a fire. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes clenched, feeling the melody. After a brief intro, he took a deep breath.

_“Come away, come away, death,_

_And in sad cypress let me be laid._

_Fly away, fly away breath,_

_I am slain by a fair cruel maid._

_My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,_

_O, prepare it!_

_My part of death, no one so true_

_Did share it.”_

     Judy looked over at Nick. His eyes were closed. His head laid against the edge of the chaise, slowly bobbing along to the music, while his ears occasionally twitched on the top of his head. His chest rose slowly up and down, some of the russet colored fur breaching through the top of the collar of his shirt.

     His eyes cracked open. They drifted down to Judy’s. He smirked.

     Judy quickly looked down with a gulp.

_“Not a flower, not a flower sweet_

_On my black coffin let there be strown._

_Not a friend, not a friend greet_

_My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown._

_A thousand, thousand sighs to save,_

_Lay me, O, where_

_Sad true lover never find my grave,_

_To weep there...”_

     Nick tilted his head back and hummed in satisfaction. He sat back up.

     “Thank you for that,” he said, “You have no idea how much I needed that. Here--”

     Nick reached into his pocket and dug around for a moment. He took his paw out, revealing a gold piece in his palm. He gestured with it to Yax.

     “Here’s for your troubles.”

     Yax snickered. He began to stand up.

     “Nah, man,” he said, “It’s okay. Wasn’t any trouble at all, don’t worry about it. I take pleasure in singing stuff.”

     “Alright,” Nick said, “Then here’s for your pleasure.”

     Yax stopped and looked at him. A grin crept onto his face.

     “Guess you got me there, man...”

     Yax plucked the gold piece from Nick’s palm and tossed it into his pocket. He gave a quick and casual wave, then made his way back into the garden. Judy watched as he began to wander towards the flower garden. Nick let out a sigh.

     “Alright,” he said, “The rest of you can take a break. I wanna digest that for a little while”

     All at once, the servants broke their place and began to file down the stairs of the gazebo. As they began to head towards the balcony, Judy felt a nudge. She looked over. Honey was walking next to her, closely.

     “...Hm?”

     “You aren’t tryin’ to be subtle, are you?”

     Judy raised an eyebrow.

     “What do you mean?”

     “Uh, those googly eyes you were givin’ him during the song?” Honey muttered to her smugly. “Also, that description of the ‘girl’ you were talking about... _he_ didn’t get it, but…”

     Judy’s eyes almost popped out of her head. Honey snickered.

     “I mean, listen,” she said, “I get it, and I don’t see anything wrong with it, you know? ‘Brave new world’ and all that, but I think he’s really got his eyes on--”

     “No! No no no, it’s not like that, it’s--”

_“Jack! Jack, come here for a moment!”_

     Judy and Honey turned back towards the gazebo. Nick was waving towards them. Honey looked at Judy and gave her a smirk.

     “Good luck, hot shot,” she said, “You’re gonna need it…”

     She gave Judy a quick pat on the shoulder, then headed up the stairs. Judy sighed. With her stomach sliding down to her feet, she quickly turned and started back towards the gazebo.

     “Yes, sir?” she called across the lawn.

     “I just want to talk with you for a moment…”

     Nick once again gestured to the empty spot on the chaise. Judy climbed the stairs and walked over. With a huff, she plopped herself down next to Nick.

     “You’ve been acting a little odd lately,” Nick began, eyeing her. “What’s the matter? Is it this girl you’ve been telling me about?”

     Judy felt a flash of adrenaline.

     “Uh...I--yeah, I-I guess,” she lied, rubbing the back of her neck, “I don’t know, I might also be getting over a cold or something--”

     “Ohhhh, alright,” Nick said, sitting back into the cushions. “Well, you know, if you need any advice with this lady friend of yours, I’d be more than happy to help--”

     “Oh, no, sir, that--wouldn’t be necessary,” she forcefully chuckled. She sat a little further into the cushions, trying to breathe. “Is that why you called me back?”

     “Oh! No, I wanted to talk to you about _Skye,_ ” Nick said, sitting up. “I want you to visit her again.”

     Judy’s heart leapt to her throat.

     “I have a little something…” Nick began, digging into his pocket, “...that I want you to...give her...lemme just _find_ it first--”

     Nick stood up and began patting himself down. He began to tug on his pants and ruffle through his shirt, his eyebrows welded into a frown. Suddenly, there was a small thump on the floor. They booth looked down to see a well-sized emerald, lying just beneath the opening of Nick’s pant leg. Nick laughed.

     “Oh!” he said, “There it is…”

     He quickly bent down and plucked it from the floor. He flung himself back onto the chaise with a contented sigh, and held up the jewel. He looked up at Judy.

     “I want you to give this to her,” he said. “An emerald. One of my most prized possessions. Have her take it as a symbol of my love--”

     “But--but sir--”

     “Also,” Nick continued, raising a finger, “Let her know that I don’t just love her because she’s rich. Alright? It’s _very_ important that she knows that. I love her because of her beautiful looks, and that’s all. Not the money. At all.”

     Judy stared at him.

     “...Not a single cent.”

     “B-But, _sir_ ,” Judy stammered, “What if...what if she... _can’t_ love you--”

     “What are you talking about?” Nick scoffed, “I won’t take any other answer--”

     “But what if you _have_ to?” she asked. “What if she just doesn’t love you?”

     “Oh, c’mon, that’s ridiculous--”

     “But--I’m _serious!”_ Judy said, straightening up on the couch. “What if--alright. Say, there was another girl who loved you. Okay? Like, some other vixen, or something--what if they loved you, but you just _didn’t_ love them back? Wouldn’t they have to just accept that, or should they just keep trying to win you over?”

     Nick chuckled heartily. He rested his chin in his hand, giving Judy a smug look.

     “You gotta _understand_ , Jack, that that’s not a very good analogy,” he said. “I’m not just some vixen. This is _my_ love--it’s so much bigger, so much more enveloping, so much more boundless and strong and passionate than anyone’s, alright? This is different.”

     Judy’s eyes narrowed.

     “Look, women’s love is more...shallow, than this, alright?” He said knowingly. “It isn’t as complex. It’s like food for them, if they give or take to much, they’ll get nauseous.”

     Judy’s eyebrows shot upwards. She was speechless for a moment, gawking at him in disbelief. Suddenly, she confidently turned herself towards him on the chaise.

     “How do you know?”

     Nick’s ears twitched. He turned his head to her.

     “What?”

     “How do you know?”

     “...Well, how do _you_ know _otherwise?_ ” he snickered. “Are _you_ a woman?”

     Judy opened her mouth, but she stopped herself. She slowly deflated, and her eyes darted to the ground. A sigh rippled through her.

     “...No…” she said quietly, “...but…”

     Nick slowly looked over at her.

     “...But _what?_ ”

     Judy looked at him. His smug smile had disappeared. He wasn’t joking around.

     He was actually listening to her.

     "Well, I, uh..." she struggled, rubbing her neck, "...I know what a woman's love is like..."

     "...How?"

     Judy bit her lip, thinking about how to approach the obstacle ahead of her. Suddenly, she was hit with an idea.

     “Um...well, I--I had a sister, once,” Judy began, searching for the story,“...And she, um...she fell in love with this guy. And, uh...she fell... _hard._ You know, kind of like...if, I don’t know, if _I_ were a woman, I might fall for _you..._ ”

     Nick carefully nodded his head, oblivious.

     “...Anyways, that was just an analogy,” she rasped, tugging at her collar. “But, she held so much love for him, and...she didn’t tell him.”

     “She didn’t?” Nick asked. “At all?”

     “No,” said Judy. “Not once.”

     “Why not?”

     “She wasn’t one to tell those kinds of things,” Judy said. “She was a very kind girl, and very polite, and only spoke when spoken to...she mostly just...kept to herself. She was never one to initiate things.”

     Nick nodded, his full attention finally won over.

     “So,” Judy continued, “I watched her, over the course of many months, just...hold this intense and incredible love for this man, and she just bottled it up as it grew, and grew, and I watched it evolve...but only from the inside. And, you know, on the outside, she was still this normal and happy girl, but...you could see. You could see how much she was trying to contain, you could see the weight of it piling on top of her.”

     Judy unconsciously placed her paw on the chaise. Nick’s paw rested a few inches away.

     “One day,” she continued, “Word came around that...that the boy had died. A, um...building had collapsed in the center of town, and he had been buried in the rubble.”

     Nick exhaled through his nose quietly, his eyebrows wringing together.

     “I was there when it happened,” Judy said. “It was an old church, and just...without warning...it was almost like the wind blew it over, like--like it was a piece of paper. The whole wall just collapsed, and buried the people around it. I immediately leapt into action, you know, I ran over and started tossing all of the stones to the side, uncovering people, and...most of the mammals who had been covered hadn’t been killed, only hurt. Some worse than others, sure, but...they were still breathing. But, as I was going, I got to one stone, and I turned it over, and...I...I saw his paw...and I knew. Immediately. It was just...sitting there, sticking out limply, almost like a pin in a pin cushion, sort of...awkwardly, with the palm hanging open to the sky.”

     “...Oh my god...”

     “I knew I couldn’t help at that point,” Judy said, “It was too late. A small part of me kept telling myself, ‘It can’t, it can’t be him’...but I knew.”

     “...What happened next?”

     Judy glanced back at Nick. His eyes were wrought with worry, and he was leaning in towards her. Whatever Judy was coming up with--and she didn’t really realize the words she was saying, or how she was saying them--it was working.

     “Well,” she said quietly, “I ran back home...as fast as I could, and...I got there, and I threw open the door, and she was standing there, in the kitchen. And she looked at me, and...I’ll never forget that moment, it’s been etched in my brain ever since...she gave me that same warm, kind, beautiful smile that she had always been so generous to give. And...I watched her slowly realize...realize that something was off, that something wasn’t right. And, it hurt _so much_ , but I knew I had to tell her, so...I just...said it. Right there, in the doorway. ‘The church collapsed,’ I told her. ‘He’s...he's dead.’”

     They sat in silence for a moment. Judy swallowed.

     “And, you know...just like that, it was like...like a switch had been flipped, or something,” said Judy. “Immediately, all of that brightness was just...sucked out of her face. It was almost like her fur turned darker, it was...I watched her decay, right in front of my eyes, right in that moment.”

     Judy swallowed and looked down at her paws in her lap. She quickly cleared her throat.

     “She wasn’t...herself, anymore,” she said quietly. “She had always been quiet, but this time, she was completely...catatonic. Lost all of her words. That happy, kindred expression that she had once held since she was a little girl, it was stolen from her, and replaced with...a tired, empty...hollowed face in its place. She was completely unrecognizable.”

     Judy and Nick’s fingers lightly touched, either conscious or through intuition.

     “I left home when I was eighteen years old,” Judy said. “Just about...three months after all this. I haven’t seen her since.”

     “Have you heard from her?” Nick asked quietly. “Is she alright?”

     Judy turned to him. Their eyes met.

     “I don’t know,” she said simply. “I haven't had any contact with her. But, it just goes to show, that...people love in different ways, but they’re all just as effective...they can be just as taxing, just as illogical, just as all-consuming as any other type. Love is...love is odd, and it’s violent, and can transform mammals into a completely different being…”

     Their faces inched closer.

     “...But that’s what’s so wonderful about it, isn’t it?”

     Judy’s heart was pounding out of her chest. She felt her fingers slowly begin to interlock with Nick’s on the chaise, and she could feel his warmth slowly approaching. They both looked nervous, but something was definitely happening, and neither of them seemed to be stopping it. Nick’s eyes began to flutter, which caused Judy’s heart to leap into her throat. She slowly closed her eyes as his face approached hers.

     The emerald fell onto the wooden floor with a deafening thunk.

     Nick and Judy both immediately jumped, their souls leaping from their bodies. Judy plopped back down onto the chaise clutching her chest, trying to filter the oxygen back into her lungs. She looked down at the source of the noise, resting right next to her foot. She quickly and forcefully cleared her throat.

     “THE EMERALD,” she accidentally shouted, startling herself just as much as Nick, “--uh, the emerald! I should--go take care of that, shouldn’t I?”

     She quickly jumped up and picked up the emerald. She turned around to look at Nick. His back was pressed against the back of the chaise, his claws beginning to tear into the cushions. His eyes were wide and his chest was heaving. His eyes darted to Judy and he swallowed forcefully.

     “--The--the what?”

     “The--the jewel--”

     “The j...oh! Yes, the--sounds--absolutely! That’s a great--thank you, you can--yes, please. That would be great. Spectacular idea…”

     Judy plastered on a smile. Nick returned his own forced grin. They both shared an awkward nod.

     “...Okay.”

     “...Okay.”

     “...I’ll, um...see you later, then, after I…”

     “...Yes, that uh, that sounds...yes…”

     Judy stood there for a moment in silence, staring at him. With deep breath, she turned around and quickly stumbled down the stairs

     Nick watched her amble around the gazebo and make her way towards the flower garden. There was a gate resting on the other side of it, and it was closer to the path to Skye’s. For some reason, he noticed he was having trouble swallowing. He slowly turned back to the inside of the gazebo, his mind racing.

     Judy walked into the rows of flowers in the direction of the gate, her heart practically bursting through her chest. Her chest heaved, and her wide eyes stared ahead, glassy.

     Did that really just happen?

      _Had she really almost kissed him?_

No. There was absolutely _no way._ Nick was in love with Skye, and that was that. There was no way he would’ve fallen in love with her instead, as his personal page…

     There was no way she would ever feel his fingers locked with hers like that again…

     There was no way she would watch and feel his lips approach hers, and feel his warm and careful breath on her cheek like...like that...like that ag…

     Judy’s legs gave way, and with a fading whimper, she collapsed face-first into the dirt, unconscious.


	13. Setting the Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious letter is conveniently placed in the Butler's path

     “Weaselton... _Weaselton, c’mon!”_

     The scraggly gardener quickly dashed across the lawn to the large hedge, behind which the two larger cats were hiding. He dove into the shade, panting heavily. He looked up at them with a wild grin.

     “Did she place it?”

     “Yes,” Lionheart said, shoving the flask back into his coat pocket, “Right smack in the middle of th--the sculpture garden. Right in his path.”

     “Whattsa matter, Duke?” asked Clawhauser, fanning himself with his hat, “You seem a little rushed…”

     “Oh-hoh, _no,_ buddy,” Weaselton chuckled, “I wouldn’t miss this thing for the _world_. You know how long this guy has been on my ass about these hedges?”

     The familiar patter of little hooves approached from the left. The three looked over to see Bellwether scampering towards them, a stifled smirk on her face.

     “There she is,” Lionheart said happily, presenting his arms. “How’s our little she-devil?”

     Bellwether raised a finger to her lips and shushed him, trying to hide her amusement. She gestured them to come closer, and they formed themselves into a crouched huddle, their ears almost touching. She took a deep breath.

     “Okay,” she said, “He’s coming around the north side. Your best bet will probably be the marble wall near the fountain. He’ll come dow--”

     “Wait, w--what’s he doing now, where is he?”

     “He’s--you’re not gonna believe me, it’s--he’s _talking_ to himself--”

     Clawhauser let out a sudden guffaw. “HE’S _WHAT?!”_

     The other three quickly shushed him. Clawhauser’s smile suddenly disappeared, and his eyes darted away awkwardly.

     “He’s talking to himself,” Bellwether continued in a whisper. “Practicing how to act...you know, all uppity, and-- _snrk--_ sorry, I’m sorry, this all...very serious business--”

     “Sweet cheese and crackers,” Lionheart chuckled, “What an egotistical _fop._ ”

     “I-I couldn’t hold it together, I had to walk the other way once I saw him--”

     “What else is he talkin’ about?”

     “It’s all just--no, listen, he’s about to go in,” Bellwether hissed quickly, pointing up to the garden, “If you guys want to catch it, then you better _go._ _Quick!”_

     The haphazard gang quickly grabbed onto their hats and awkwardly dashed up the hill. They reached a larger hedge that encircled the entirety of the 700 square feet of the sculpture garden. By the lead of Weaselton, they all three managed to squeeze through a minor opening in the brush.

     The sculpture garden was filled with...well, _sculptures_ . _Lots_ of them. Ancient goddesses, large ornate fountains, all with marble benches peppering the perimeter. In the center sat the largest piece of all--a large statue of many mammals grouped together, the one in the center pointing stoically to the sky. Beneath them was a square pedestal, the inner lining a trough of dirt. From the dirt bloomed giant groupings of colorful flowers, all differently and absolutely stunning.

     There was one fountain built into a large marble wall, which sat near the outside of the circle. The three quickly meandered through the granite figures and slipped behind it, just as Bogo appeared at one of the entrances.

 _“Alright,”_ Lionheart whispered, _“No matter what we hear, we absolutely_ cannot _make a sound. We must stay hidden, and not get caught. Is that clear?_ ”

     Weaselton and Clawhauser nodded.

 _“Good.”_ he said, satisfied. _“Now, what we have to--”_

     “It’s all just luck, isn’t it?” Bogo’s voice suddenly boomed from the other edge of the garden. “It’s bound to happen at some point, I figure...Bellwether practically told me, she’s head over heels for me. No wonder it’s taken her so long to tell me...she’s obviously afraid of rejection.”

 _“Is--is he talking about the Lady Skye?”_ Weaselton whispered.

 _“I don’t know,”_ Lionheart said, _“But he better watch his words--”_

     “Just imagine,” Bogo continued to himself, chuckling. “ _‘Duke Bogo’_! Ah, the sound of that…”

     Lionheart’s eyebrow shot up. _“Excuse me?”_

_“Oh, if I could just whale on ‘im right now--”_

_“Shh!”_ Weaselton hushed, _“We need to be quiet, remember?...”_

     “The day will come,” Bogo continued. “I can see it now...happily married...man of the house...finally, a mammal of status. Servants left and right, all at my disposal…”

 _“Give me a reason I shouldn’t bludgeon him right now,”_ Lionheart snarled.

     “...And I’d say to--one day, I’d say to them, ‘Bring me that drunkard, Sir Lionheart!’”

_“--Alright, that’s it--”_

     Lionheart suddenly charged for the open. Clawhauser and Weaselton quickly grappled him, holding him back. They ensued in a quiet and heated struggle, pulling Lionheart away from the edge of the wall.

_“Let me at him, l--I’ll knock his eyes into his throat, just watch!”_

_“Shhhh! Quit it!”_ Weaselton hissed, tugging on the back of Lionheart’s coat, _“You’re gonna blow our cover!”_

 _“I’ll blow his_ head _off--”_

     “--And, they’d bring him to me,” Bogo continued to himself smugly, pacing towards the center statue, “And I’d look at him, and I’d say, ‘Leo...as I am now your niece’s keeper--”

_“Scoundrel!”_

     As Lionheart leapt towards the edge, Clawhauser quickly latched himself to his middle. They both went down with a heavy ‘fwump’. As they struggled atop each other, Weaselton grabbed the nearest tail and began to desperately drag them further behind the wall.

     “--I feel I should have a few words with you,” Bogo said. “You, sir, drink _far_ too much--”

 _“You, sir,_ breathe _far too much!”_

 _“Shut_ up _!”_

     “--And, in addition, you are around that idiotic cheetah too much for your own good!”

 _“Oh, hey,”_ Clawhauser said through Lionheart’s paw pushing against his face, _“I bet that’s me--”_

     “That Benjamin Clawhauser is of no use to anyone, much less to you!”

     Clawhauser gasped joyfully. _“See?”_ He said, _“I was_ right _!”_

     “You must change your lifestyle!” Bogo chanted, taking a seat on the ridge of the centerpiece. “Alter your routine! This all for...all for your...your own…’”

     Bogo trailed off. His eyes were locked on a neatly folded envelope with a silver wax seal, quietly sitting mere inches from his hoof. He gingerly reached over and plucked it from the pedestal, his eyes scanning it with curiosity.

     The three mammals behind the marble wall were frozen, still atop one another.

 _“What was that,”_ Lionheart breathed, _“Did he see it? Is th--did he take the bait?”_

 _“Hold on,”_ Weaselton whispered, _“Just...just listen for a sec…”_

     There was a long and painful silence.

     “...What…” Bogo muttered, “...What is this?”

     The pranksters quickly untangled themselves from each other and leapt to their feet. Lionheart pressed his back to the wall and slowly began to inch to the edge, the other two following close behind. He cautiously peeked his eye around the corner of the wall to see Bogo holding the envelope in his hooves. He whirled back around to the other two, a bewildered look on his face.

 _“He took it,”_ he said breathlessly, _“He picked it up, he--he’s got it--”_

 _“What’s he doing with it?”_ Weaselton rasped, _“Is he reading it?”_

_“I, I d--yes, I-I think so--”_

_“I don’t hear ‘im though, why’d he stop?”_

_“Hold on,”_ Weaselton said to Clawhauser, _“He might start up again…”_

     Bogo carefully flipped the envelope over, revealing light and beautiful ink on the back. He pulled his glasses from his coat pocket, unfolded them onto his nose, and began to scan carefully.

     “This is...wait a moment,” he said, bringing his face closer, “This...this is the Lady’s handwriting...I’d recognize these ‘t’s anywhere!”

     Lionheart broke out into a silent but ecstatic jig behind the wall, pumping his fists in the air. Weaselton slapped a paw to his chest and gave a thankful point to the sky.

     “What does this…‘To my unknown beloved,’” Bogo read carefully, “‘This, and my good wishes’...this _is_ her! This is her wording, this is--let me see this…”

     Bogo quickly flipped the envelope over and broke the seal. He yanked the neatly folded parchment from within and ruffled it open, tossing the envelope to the side.

     “...‘Jove knows I love’,” Bogo read carefully, “‘But who? Lips, do not move; No man must know,’...”

 _“A poem?”_ Weaselton said, _“She wrote a poem for him?”_

     “‘No man must know’,” Bogo repeated quietly, “‘No man must know’, ‘No man must know’, the meter changes, what does that mean?”

 _“If he goes any slower,”_ Lionheart murmured, _“I’m going t’ bash my own head in…”_

     “‘I may command who I adore’,” Bogo continued, “‘But silence, like a Lucrece knife, with bloodless stroke doth my heart gore; G.O.B. doth sway my life’...”

_“Sweet cheese and crackers, it’s a riddle.”_

_“I know,”_ Lionheart said to Weaselton, _“She’s really outdone herself.”_

     “‘I may command who I adore’, she commands…” Bogo said, concentrating, “...she commands _me._ She commands _me!_ That settles it, she’s talking about _me!_ She’s...but I...but what do these letters at the end mean, what do those have to do with me…?”

_“Oh, for heaven’s s--it--he’s losing it--”_

_“Hold on, hold on, he’ll get there,”_ Weaselton said, lightly patting Lionheart’s leg, _“It’s right under his nose…”_

     “G...O...B…” Bogo recited from the letter, “G...O...wait a moment, ‘B’. ‘B’ is the first--the first letter of my name--”

 _“Oh, outstanding work,”_ Lionheart said, _“Figure that one out all by yourself?”_

     “...and ‘O’ and ‘G’ are also in my name,” Bogo continued, “Just...in the wrong order…”

     Lionheart slapped a paw over his face.

     “But...with some work…” he said, tracing a finger on the page, “They can be _arranged_ to spell my name...wait! Wait, there’s more…”

     Lionheart cautiously peeked out from behind the wall to see Bogo’s back facing them. He quietly gestured for the other two to come around. They stacked their heads on top of each other, peering around the corner at him.

     “‘If you find this letter,’” He read aloud, “‘Think heavily on what it says. Through my blood, I am above you, but do not be afraid of greatness. For, some are born great...some achieve greatness...and some have greatness _thrust_ upon them’--”

     Lionheart clapped a paw to his mouth and quickly pulled away to silence his sudden outburst of laughter. Weaselton gaped ahead.

 _“No,”_ he whispered in disbelief, _“She did_ not _write that--”_

 _“What?”_ Clawhauser said, looking between them, _“What did she write?”_

     Bogo shoved the handkerchief he had shakenly used to wipe his brow back into his inner coat pocket. He carefully swallowed. “‘Y--Your fate awaits you’,” he stammered, “‘So come and accept it with open arms. Show me you are ready to accept your new status; have no more fear of social constrictions, for you are now above them. Don’t be afraid to be rude with servants, or disagree with others, or attempt to discipline yourself as you have before’...”

 _“...This is absolutely_ genius-- _”_

     “‘The one who tells you so, loves you so,’” Bogo continued, “Remember the one who absolutely adored your yellow stockings...and--and who wishes to see thee ever cross-gartered…!’”

_“Cross-gartered?!”_

_“She’s_ really _outdone herself!”_

     “‘Your new life awaits,’” Bogo read, “‘If you do wish to claim it. She who would be _your_ servant: _The Fortunate Unhappy’_...”

     Bogo slowly lowered the letter, numb. His eyes lifted to the sky, full of bewilderment.

     “...This is...this is…”

_“Yes? Yes? Get on with it!”_

     Bogo looked back down at the letter, a smile beginning to spread across his face.

     “...This...is...a... _MIRACLE!!”_

     Bogo let out a shout of unbridled joy, and began to bounce and dance around the centerpiece. The three pranksters quickly zipped back behind the wall, right as he spun towards them. They continued to listen to his ecstatic celebration.

     “I will do it!” He shouted, “I will be unafraid! I will be brash, and opposite with servants, I will shed the commodities of my past life! There is no doubt that this message comes from my lady, and there is no doubt that she unashamedly _loves_ me!”

 _“Sweet cheese and crackers,”_ Lionheart chuckled, _“She’s really outdone her--”_

_“Shhh!”_

     “I--I will present myself, _in_ my yellow stockings _and_ cross-gartered, as she has requested, and I shall claim the life that’s--wait! Wait, here’s--here’s a _postscript_ …!”

     Bogo quickly sat back down on the pedestal, the letter in front of him. He traced a finger to the bottom corner, and he began to read the smaller lettering aloud.

     “‘By now,’” he read, “‘You must know who I am. If you love me yet, please...let me see your smile. It has always warmed my heart’...”

     Lionheart stuck his fist in his mouth, wheezing. Clawhauser looked at him, shocked.

 _“Smile?”_ he whispered, _“But he...but he_ never _smiles!”_

 _“That’s the_ point _!”_ Weaselton snickered, _“He’s gonna look like a complete_ idiot _!”_

     Weaselton looked out from behind the corner. Bogo slowly lowered the letter to his chest and pressed it against his heart.

     “For you, my love,” he said, “I will do _anything_ …”

     Bogo quickly gave a glance around him, checking to see if anyone was there--not once looking at the fountain behind him--and once absolutely sure, he shoved the letter into his breast pocket, and quickly marched out of the garden.

     Weaselton burst into laughter and collapsed on the ground, out from behind the wall. Clawhauser came out next, an oblivious smile on his face. He looked down at Weaselton.

     “Did we--did we do it?”

     “YES!” Lionheart shouted, coming out with his fists pumping, “Of _course_ we did it, it worked _spectacularly_ _!”_

     “I...I can’t believe he fell for it--” Weaselton gasped, rolling over onto his back.

     “That was--that was _beautiful_ handiwork,” Lionheart laughed, wiping tears from his eyes, “She really went the extra mile with that--”

     “Oh, hey look!” Clawhauser said, pointing to the south entrance, “It's Miss Acco--uh, Bellwether…”

     Bellwether walked in, a wild and expectant grin on her face. Lionheart pushed through the other two mammals and marched toward her, his arms outstretched.

     “What a show, what--a-- _s_ _how!_ ”

     Lionheart scooped her up in a grand embrace, causing a stifled squeal to escape from her. Weaselton and Clawhauser came up behind him, happily cheering her on. Bellwether fell into a bout of giggles.

     “Oh my--put me down, _put me down!”_ She laughed hysterically, _“Please!”_

     Lionheart lowered her back to the ground, laughing. She quickly brushed out her skirt and looked back up at them, still breathing heavily.

     “Did it work?”

     “Psh, _‘Did it wo--’_ of _course_ it worked!” Lionheart shouted, throwing his arms in the air. “Like _clockwork,_ like--absolutely perfect, it--”

     “You should’ve seen it,” Weaselton said, “I have never seen that buffalo with that much expression _in my life_!”

     “There was so much in there!” Lionheart said, “The bit about th--the, the yellow stockings--”

     “Yes,” Bellwether giggled, “Yes, the--”

     “She _despises_ yellow!”

 _“I know!”_ Bellwether shouted happily, “She absolutely _loathes_ it, it’s her least favorite color!”

     “The--the poems, the riddle, th-- _everything,_ it was j--it-- _fantastic!”_

     “Listen,” Bellwether breathed, “We should keep our eyes on him. I-I don’t know _when_ he’s going to act on these things, but _when he does_ \--”

     “Oh,” Lionheart chuckled, a mischievous grin spreading up his face, “I will definitely have to save a seat for _that!”_


	14. The Message (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The predator chases their prey

     The next morning, Judy set off for the Lady Skye’s estate (she had decided to take the night to recuperate from the... _incident_ ). While she did feel a faint sense of dread having to deal with Skye again--since she had fears as to what Skye’s true feelings were towards ‘Jack’--she knew that she still had to follow orders. So at the break of day, with the emerald in her pocket and her heart in her stomach, she left for the estate.

     When she arrived at the gates, instead of facing a barrage of questions and dirty looks like before, the guards opened the gate almost immediately upon her arrival. For a moment, she thought she had the wrong place.

     She gave a politely awkward nod and walked inside.

     Judy once again saw the immense lawn with the cobblestone trails meandering through, the hedges cut and shaped to geometric angles, and the large, cylindrical and leafy wall of the sculpture garden in the center. The same grey and black house rose behind it in the distance.

     Yeah, this was the place alright.

     A familiar twang entered her ear. She looked over to her right and saw Yax sitting in the grass, busy with the knobs on his mandolin. She gave a hint of a smile.

     “Hey,” she said, “It’s _you_ …”

     Judy stepped off of the path and onto the lawn, sauntering towards Yax. He looked up at her, took a moment to scan her up and down, then gave his signature smile.

     “Oh, hey, man,” he said, “...how’s it going?”

     “Fine, they’re, uh...things are _outstanding…_ ”

     Yax snorted and raised an eyebrow.

     “Y’ sure?”

     “Oh, yeah,” Judy said, “It’s uh--you know what? I--I’ve got a question...”

     Yax shrugged. “Okay,” he said, “Shoot.”

     Judy took a knee next to him with a gust of air. She gave a casual point to the mandolin in his lap. “That,” she said, “Do you really make a living by that?”

     “Why?”

     “I don’t know, I just...it seems really interesting,” Judy said, “...also looks like a lot of fun.”

     “Well, yeah, it is, man…” Yax said, giving the mandolin a strum, “I enjoy it. But uh, no, I don’t make my living by this, I actually live by the church.”

     Judy cocked an eyebrow. “Really?” she asked, “I...never really saw you as a _preist_ …”

     “Oh, no no no,” Yax chuckled, waving his hoof, “I’m _not_ , man...it’s just my house is by the church, so, you know, I _live_ by it…”

     Judy rolled her eyes and smirked. Yax gave her a knowing look, and strummed out a melodical button to the joke. Judy chuckled.

     “You do that a lot, don’t you?” Judy asked.

     “Do what?”

     “Twist words around like that.”

     “Well, yeah, man,” Yax said, “It’s just so _easy,_ you know? Your tongue can twist your words as easily as your words can twist your tongue.”

     “...Oh, come _on_ …”

     “I’m sorry man,” Yax said, putting his mandolin to the side, “I can’t help it…”

     Judy’s ears picked up some footsteps making their way toward them in the grass. She looked up to see a lion in a disheveled peacoat--whom she recognized from a couple days earlier, from drunkenly blabbing at her through the gate--followed by a rather rotund cheetah in green. She rose to her feet.

     Lionheart cleared his throat. “Greetings, sir!” he said.

     “Hello,” Judy said, giving a polite wave, “I, uh, I believe we’ve met.”

     Lionheart raised an eyebrow. “...Really?” he said, “Is--uh, is that so…”

     “...Oh, uh, _dieu vous garde, monsieur,_ ” Clawhauser carefully recited, removing his hat and giving a polite bow.

     Judy’s eyes lit up. “Oh! _Et vous aussi; votre serviteur_ ,” she said happily, bowing back. She straightened back up, a smile on her face. _“Je ne vous reconnaîtrait pas d’un parleur de français,”_ she said, _“Cependant, je suis très ravi à vous rencontrer…”_

     Clawhauser stared at her, dumbfounded. He flashed a shaky smile.

     “...Uh... _yeah_ , uh…” he muttered weakly, “...you--you too…”

     “It seems, uh,” Lionheart stepped in, “It seems that my niece has business with you...er-uhh, you are from the duke, correct?”

     “Yes,” Judy said, clasping her paws together, “That is exactly why I’m here, actually, I’m--I’m here to speak with her.”

     “Well, good, why don’t we--uh, let’s lead you back to the house, why don’t we…”

     The three of them turned to head towards the house. However, on the patio, with her paws resting lightly on the black, thin, vine-like fence, was Skye. There were no other servants behind her. Her veil was lifted, showing her face aglow with anticipation. Judy swallowed.

     “I guess we don’t have to,” she said. She cleared her throat and put on a smile. “My Lady,” she called, “A day as stunning as this is only brightened by you…”

     Skye laughed, raising a paw to her mouth. Clawhauser glanced at Judy, then up at Skye. He met eyes with Lionheart uncertainly.

     “My message is for your ears only,” Judy recited to her, “No one else.”

     Skye smiled. “Meet me in the sculpture garden,” she called, “We’ll be alone there...”

     Judy nodded, turned back to the cobblestone path, and went on her way. She reached into her pants pocket and palmed the emerald as she walked, carefully turning it over and over with her thumb. Clawhauser and Lionheart watched as she walked away.

     “Wait...how come _he_ gets to see her and not _me?_ ” Clawhauser said, “Didn’t--didn’t you say _I_ was supposed to be courting her?”

     “Well,” Lionheart said, “It, euh--’t seems you’re not the only one, does it?”

     “...But...but how come _he_ gets to see her and not _me?”_

     Yax, lying in the grass a couple feet away on his back, let out a snicker.

* * *

     Judy stared up at the large marble otter above her, brandishing his trident, the leaping fish and and rolling waves carved below him. She carefully surveyed the amount of detail put into the folds of his toga, the small but noticeable whiskers on his cheeks, the texture of the water beneath him, the individual scales of the fish…

     “That’s Poseidon, right there…”

     Judy jumped and whirled around. Skye stood at the entrance, her paws behind her back. She smiled at her.

     “King of the Sea,” she continued comfortably, “Do you know your Greek Mythology?”

     Judy swallowed. “Uh, yeah,” she said, “I’m...quite fond of it, actually…”

     Skye began to saunter towards Judy, her paws falling comfortably to her sides. She looked up at the statue.

     “I think it’s alright,” Skye said, “I was forced to read it as part of my schooling. I think that’s part of why I’m so... _partial_ in my feelings towards it.”

     “I think it’s interesting,” Judy said, “It’s a really unique worldview…”

     Skye stopped next to one a couple feet away. “Which one is your favorite?”

     “...My--my favorite sculpture?”

     “...Well, _sure_ . I mean--I meant, which _story_ of yours is your favorite...but, statue is fine, too, there are many to choose from…”

     Judy looked around at the rest of the marble figures, scanning them. She gave a meager shrug.

     “I dunno,” she said, “I, uh...I think they’re all very pretty…”

     “You want to know my favorite?”

     Judy looked at her. There was something in Skye’s eyes. Judy carefully nodded.

     “Sure.”

     Skye looked up at the sculpture she was leaning against the base of. She smiled at it.

     “ _This_ one,” she said, “Ever since I was a little girl, this one was always my favorite.”

     It was easy to see why. It was a vixen, wrapped in a lavish and flowing toga. She had a paw over her heart, and her heavily lashed eyes gazed passionately into the distance.

     Judy chuckled uncertainly. “Well...I mean, no wonder,” she said, “That’s practically _you_ up there…”

     Skye looked at her, surprised. She quickly scoffed and waved a paw, a small hint of a blush washing her cheeks.

     “What? I’m serious...”

     Skye gave her a happily skeptical look. “... _Really?_ ” she said, “You think I look like _Aphrodite?_ ”

     Judy’s stomach fell into her feet.

     “--Wh--th--that’s--?”

     “Yes,” Skye said with a sigh, gazing back up at it, “ _That,_ right there, is the goddess of love...or, well...at least _one_ interpretation of her…”

     Skye looked back over at Judy with a smile. Her eyes fluttered.

     “You really think I look like her?”

     Judy stared at her, speechless. Suddenly, Skye’s smile began to melt away.

     “Are...are you alright?”

     Judy slowly but surely became self-aware; her eyes were wide and electric, her jaw clamped tight, with her arms heavily plastered to her sides. She also realized her paws were shaking and that she was breathing very heavily. She quickly wiped her brow and cleared her throat.

     “Yeah, I’m--I’m great--”

     “Are-are you sure, you...you look a little _pale,_ do you feel _sick?_ ”

     “Uh--I--I mean, _no,_ I--well--”

     “Here, come--come sit down, over here…”

     Skye gestured to a bench nearby, walking over to Judy cautiously. She placed a careful paw on Judy’s shoulder--causing Judy to internally recoil--and lead her over. They both sat down, one a little stiffer than the other. Skye carefully squeezed Judy’s paw.

     “Do you need anything?” she asked quietly, “Water, anything like that?”

     “No,” Judy rasped, “No, I’m--I’m _great_ …”

     “Are you hot? Do you need to take your coat off?”

     “ _NO!_ No, please, that’s--that is _really_ alright, thank you…”

     Skye scanned her carefully, then let out a gust of air. “Alright…”

     They sat for a moment in silence. Judy watched the sun dance through the leaves of the hedges as her throat slowly turned to sand. Skye suddenly let out a quiet chuckle. Judy looked over at her cautiously.

     “...What?”

     “No, it’s just...I never...what’s your _name?”_ Skye said with a smile, “I-I just realized, I...I never asked…”

     Judy cleared her throat. “Um...Jack,” she said with a nod, “It’s uh...it’s Jack.”

     Skye smiled. “Jack,” she repeated to herself.

     There was another silence, longer than the last. Judy’s heart was pounding out of her chest. Skye’s paw was still grasped around hers, and she didn’t know how to remove it. Also, she still had the emerald in her pants pocket, and she still hadn’t delivered a word of the speech yet.

     Maybe _that_ would be her escape.

     Judy took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak.

     “I’m sorry.”

     Judy, her mouth still wide open and loaded with words, slowly and carefully turned to look at Skye. She was resting her face in her free paw. Judy searched her brain for speech.

     “...W--what?”

     “The ring,” Skye said firmly, “I’m sorry about the ring. It was...it was stupid, and childish, and I don’t know why I did it. It probably made me look like a complete and utter--and, I _forced_ it on you without your prior _knowledge_ of it, and it was just...just a bad decision all around…”

     Skye looked away. Judy pursed her lips and awkwardly darted her eyes. She apprehensively nodded.

     “...That’s, um...that’s okay…”

     Skye looked up at Judy and read her expression. Judy simply stared back. Skye groaned and buried her face in both of her paws. Judy quickly retrieved her hand from the bench and shoved it in her pocket. She swallowed.

     “What’s--what’s the matter?”

     “...You think I’m insane, don’t you?”

     “...No. I--no, I--”

     “It’s alright,” Skye said, “You don’t have to lie about it…”

     Judy stared at her, nervous. Skye sighed.

     “It-it’s absolutely insane, isn’t it?” Skye said, staring at the ground, “A fox and a...sweet cheese and crackers, you--you _know_ , don’t you? It’s so obvious, isn’t it? I can’t--God, I-I’ve screwed up, and I’ve done this all wrong, so now, I...here I am, sitting on a bench, trying...trying to, to _explain,_ to you...why I’ve fallen in love with you.”

     Skye stared down at her feet, her ears folded back. Judy stared out into space, the same vacant expression on her face.

     “... _Mmmhm…”_

     Skye sniffed and wiped her eyes. She let out a long sigh.

     “What are you thinking?”

     Judy looked at her. There was a brief pause.

     “Hm?”

     “What...what are you thinking…”

     Judy took a moment, trying to find the right words. She took a deep breath.

     “Well...in complete honesty…” she said, “...I...I feel kinda sorry for you, for having to deal with all of this…”

     Skye looked up at her, her eyes glazed with tears. Her lips slowly grew into a smile. Judy smiled back.

     And with that, Skye grabbed Judy’s lapels, pulled her in close, and planted her lips passionately on hers.

     Judy let out a muffled yelp and immediately pushed Skye away, leaping from the bench. She stumbled blindly backwards, her paws clamped over her mouth. Her heel caught a crack in the floor, which sent her sprawling onto her back with a yelp. Skye looked on helplessly.

     “I’m sorry,” she said, “That was really stupid and childish too--”

     “Wh--what th--” Judy stammered, quickly climbing to her feet, “-- _WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!”_

     “You sad you felt bad for me!” Skye said, “Which meant that you felt bad that I had to go through all of that guilt and insecurity for my actions, which meant there was no cause for it, which meant you loved me _back_ \--”

     “Wh-- _what?!”_ Judy said incredulously, “How does that--that is _not_ what I meant--”

     “I’m sorry!” Skye said, holding her head, “I--I just--”

     “I don’t--alright, _look_ ,” Judy breathed, “I--I was just sent here to _deliver a message_ from--”

_“No!”_ Skye suddenly shouted, jumping up from her seat, “ _Nonononono_ , don’t even--don’t even bring him up, I don’t want to hear anything about him--”

     “Well, then, I--I have no use here, then!” Judy said plainly, “I might as well just leave--”

     “NO!”

     Before Judy had time to react, Skye was suddenly in front of her with her paw locked around her wrist. She tried to tug it away, but Skye firmly held her grip, looking right into Judy’s eyes.

     “Jack,” she said breathlessly, “I swear by honor, by truth, by the sky above and the ground below me that I _love_ you. No matter what I do, I can no longer hide it. Please, just--don’t be afraid to reciprocate!"

     Judy looked her up and down anxiously, her chest heaving. Skye sputtered, searching for words.

     "Look, I-I know that it’s odd," she stuttered, "And abrupt, and almost _insane,_ but you have the purest love here in front of you that you will ever find, so I beg you, _please_ show me enough kindness to return it--”

     “--Sweet cheese and crackers--”

     “--Forget about what Wilde wants,” Skye begged, tightening her grip, “Just for a second, just--forget everything, forget _him,_ forget _society,_ forget _everyone,_ just...just _tell me you love me back._ ”

     “--I can’t--”

     “Yes, you can, I _know_ you can, if you just stop pretending to be someone you _aren’t--_ ”

     “Oh, trust me, you do _not_ want that--”

     “But I do!” Skye said, “I want all of you, all of your faults and imperfections, your sorrows, your dreams, all of it! I have given you all of my heart, every single piece of it, so please, I  _beg_ of you--”

     “That’s quite alright,” Judy said quickly, “You can have it back!”

     Judy slipped her wrist through Skye’s hands and immediately tore through the statues towards the exit. Skye’s eyes popped out of her head. She panickedly grabbed her skirt and began to run after her down the path.

_“Jack!”_ she shouted out into the distance, _“Jack, WAIT!”_

     Servants and gardeners alike took a moment to pause their work and watch, confused, as the rabbit in the red coat ran across the hills and grass, followed not too far behind by the fox in tulle and lace.


	15. A Simple Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puzzle pieces begin to fall into place, and new ones are introduced to the board

     Jack took a careful step off of the ramp and onto the docks. The ones here were much livelier than the ones of Elkenfreid--sailors and merchants bustled left and right, cargo was being loaded and unloaded off of ships, beck and calls echoed from all directions--it was a complete hubbub. Steady streams of mammals filtered under one grand arch in the distance, either coming in towards the docks or flowing out towards the city.

     A piercing whistle sounded, and Jack’s eyes darted up. A large locomotive tore along the top of the arch, strips of red and gold trailing its body, steam billowing from its funnel.

     Jack was in complete awe.

     His shoulder was thrown forward. Jack quickly stumbled to the side, inadvertently making way for the grizzly bear that had collided with him. He took a moment to quickly readjust the strap of his sack on his shoulder.

     Jack observed his bustling surroundings. With a deep breath, he dove into the sea of predators.

     Swimming through it proved very difficult, however; nobody paid attention to him, and Jack had to duck and dodge many oblivious paws and feet. His bag bumped and skidded on the ground. Jack gritted his teeth and tightened his grip, placing his shoulder forward.

     A leather satchel swung down and smacked him square in the side of the head. Jack blinked, his feet dizzily staggering forward. His eyes darted around, desperately trying to find an exit path.

     A paw grabbed the back of his collar.

     Jack flew backwards, his feet flailing wildly. His heels bounced and skidded across the cobblestone road as an unknown mammal dragged him through the inattentive crowd. Jack’s paws desperately tugged at the neck of his shirt, his lungs rattling for air. He was jostled to the side, and two walls of an alleyway appeared on his sides, flanking him. His paws blindly grasped at the wrist of his assailant, garbled grunts choking at his throat.

     A paw encompassed his waist and lifted him from the ground. His collar was released.

     “Let me go!” Jack shouted hoarsely, “Let me go, or I’ll--”

     He was flipped around, and a paw clapped over his mouth. Jack desperately pounded the forearm attached to it, his eyes clamped shut in desperation. Slowly, his hands and arms got heavier, and slowly, the counterattack weakened. Jack’s chest heaved heavily as he gave a final flurry of limp and out of breath swats at the mammal’s wrist. His eyes slowly opened.

     Green eyes peered at him gently through black fur.

     Jack’s eyebrows shot up.

     The black panther uncovered Jack’s mouth and brought a finger to his lips.

_“Shhhhhhh…”_

     “...Wh... _Manchas?”_

 _“Shhhhh!”_ Manchas hissed, firmer. _“People will hear us!”_

     “Wh--why are you…” Jack breathed, “What...why did you just--”

 _“Why do you think?”_ Manchas whispered, _“If it weren’t for me, you would be getting kicked around out there like a_ pebble _right now_ \-- _”_

     “B--why are you here?” Jack stammered, “I-I thought you said you couldn’t _be_ here!”

     “I can’t” said Manchas, “I _shouldn’t._..but let’s be honest, Hopps; did you really think I’d let you wander mindlessly around this island on your own?”

     Jack stared at him, processing. Manchas raised a playful eyebrow. Jack’s lips slowly curled into a giddy smile.

     “I just can’t get rid of you, can I?”

     Manchas snickered and wrapped Jack into a friendly embrace, his feet still dangling above the ground. Jack giggled. Manchas carefully lowered Jack from his chest and placed him on his feet.

     “How did you get here?”

     “I swam.”

     “You di--no you _didn’t_ that--what--did you?”

     Manchas laughed. “No,” he said, “I snuck on a cargo ship. Hid in a banana crate.”

     “...Now, see, why do I believe that _less?_ ”

     Manchas playfully batted at Jack’s ears. Jack ducked away, laughing. He took a step back, and his eyes quickly scanned Manchas. His laughter died down, and his smile slowly faded into confusion.

     “...What...what are you _wearing?_ ”

     Manchas was adorned in a nice violet waistcoat, bronze buttons nicely polished and gleaming. His button-down shirt sported a mustard yellow ascot, carefully pinned into place. He held a firmly shaped felt hat in his hand.

     “I’m, um...I’m a _merchant_ ,” he said. “Isn’t this what merchants...I haven’t been on the mainland in years, I may not be very up-to-date--”

     “No, it’s--it’s _accurate_ ,” Jack said, “It’s just so... _not you_ . Not quite those canvas trousers I’m used to seeing on you, it’s--where did you--where did you _get_ all of this?”

     Manchas nodded distractedly, his eyes glued to the ground. “That’s uh...that’s not important,” he quickly muttered, “But, what _is_ important, right now, is getting you a place to stay--”

     “What? But--Renato, I just _got_ here!” Jack said, “I wanna...I wanna take a look at this place, it’s so...it’s _huge!_ There’s so much to _see_ here, it’s _amazing!_ ”

     “Trust me, there will be plenty of time for sight-seeing,” Manchas chuckled, dusting off the dome of his hat. “But for now, you must first get your bearings _._ Here--listen carefully--”

     Manchas kneeled down, joining Jack on his level. He placed a paw on his shoulder.

     “There is an Inn called _the Rockmill_ ” he said quietly. “They will take you. When you get there, ask for a mammal named _Woolworth_ , he’ll make sure you get a room. I’ll meet you there tomorrow--”

     “Wait, you’re--you’re not coming?”

     “...No, I’m coming,” Manchas said. “I just need to take care of a few things first--”

     “Like what?”

     Manchas looked over his shoulder, back towards the main street. “Not important,” he said. “But I’ll be there, don’t worry. Here’s--here’s how you get there--”

     Manchas carefully stood up, placing a paw on Jack’s shoulder. He turned Jack towards the opening of the alleyway. He gestured down the street with his paw.

     “Go back onto the main street,” he said, “Wherever you go, always stay to the right, or else you’ll get trampled and become a permanent part of the road. Neither of us want that. Make your way under the arch. As soon as you clear it, the road will break off into three separate paths. The right path leads into Cedar Grove, a small stretch of shops, markets, and other things of the like. At the end of the road is _the Rockmill_.”

     “...Take the right road and go all the way to the end,” Jack repeated to himself, “Got it.”

     “Don’t forget to ask for Woolworth--”

     “Woolworth, right…”

     Manchas lifted his paw from Jack’s shoulder. He sighed. “Alright,” he said. “This is where we part. Remember to keep to the right--you’re not in the Burrows anymore, country boy...”

     Jack scoffed and rolled his eyes, amused. Manchas smiled.

     “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

     Manchas held out his paw. Jack looked at it, smiled, and placed his palm in Manchas’. They shook once, solid and sincere.

     “Thank you.”

     Manchas smirked. “My friend,” he said, “It’s the least I can do.”

* * *

_Dear Sir,_

_I don’t know what you are, but you sure are a real jerk. Don’t ask me why I say that. I won’t tell you. And that’s not because I don’t know why._

_I just don’t want to say. That’s all._

_Whenever you come to see the Lady Skye, she lets you in immediately. That is unfair, because I am supposed to be seeing her instead of you, and that’s not okay that you’re stealing my spot. Because that’s what you’re doing. Stealing my spot, that is. I think that that’s a really jerk move...you_ jerk _._

_That is not why I am challenging you to a duel._

_I am challenging you to a duel because you have wronged me in the worst way possible. I will come upon you when you least expect it, and attack you with incredible stealth and precision. If you_ do _end up killing me, before I possibly in some way come a step closer in furthering the process of speeding up your untimely death, you will kill me brutally and without mercy. Then, you will feel so bad for being so cruel and unforgiving in killing me that you will be wracked with guilt forever, and will eventually go insane._

_May God have mercy on one of us. I’m hoping it’s me, but it could be you instead. I don’t know, because it hasn’t happened yet, and I’m not a psychic that can see into the future._

_But it’ll probably be me because I’m really tough._

_So watch out._

_Love,_

_-Sir Benjamin Clawhauser_

 

     Lionheart nodded, his eyebrows raised. He tapped the open letter with the back of his hand, satisfied. “Good,” he said, “I think this is _wonderful,_ Ben.”

     “Are you sure?” Clawhauser said, wringing his paws in front of him. His eyes darted left and right. “I-I tried to include everything you told me to, I just don’t know if I got the wording right--”

     “Oh no, yeah, buddy, this is _great_ ,” said Weaselton, perched over Lionheart’s shoulder. “This’ll work just fine, I’m _sure_ you’ll scare ‘im with this.”

     “You...you think so?”

     “Sure!” Lionheart said, “This is, erm...very well written, if I do say so myself, it’s--it has plenty of intimidation in it, but at the same time, nothing is too direct, so you won’t get into an--any legal trouble, so...this, this is, this is good. This will work _wonderfully._ ”

     Weaselton stealthily leaned in towards Lionhearts ear and singled out a place in the letter with a hidden finger. _“Is that an ‘s’ or a ‘g’?”_ he whispered.

_“...That’s not an ‘r’?”_

     “Should I go find him and deliver it to him?”

     “Oh, no no,” Lionheart said, waving a paw, “That’s not--no, you don’t need to, I can take care of it. He’ll be back soon, and I can give it to him then, not to worry. I’ll just--yes, it’s--don’t worry.”

     “Alright,” Clawhauser said. “I’ll try to go find where I put my fencing stuff…”

     “Sure sure, go...go right ahead, go--good idea, go find it…”

     Clawhauser nervously started back towards the house, lumbering over the grassy hill towards the patio.

     Lionheart looked back down at the letter, deadpan. He nodded casually.

     “...Yep…yep, this is, uh...this is horseshit.”

     Lionheart tore the letter into halves, quarters, eighths, and then stuffed the scraps into his pocket. Weaselton let out a sigh of relief.

     “Oh thank _god_ ,” he said, “I thought you were actually gonna do it.”

     “Wh--of course not,” Lionheart scoffed, “This would make the man piss himself from _laughter_ , not from _fear_ . I don--only a _moron_ would take this letter seriously…”

     “I know,” Weaselton said. “What’re we gonna do instead?”

     “...Well, I d--whi, uh--I’m sure we can come up with something,” Lionheart said, “Have a little fun with them. It’ll pass the time, don’t you think?”

     Weaselton chuckled. “What do you have in mind?”

     “You’ll see,” Lionheart grunted, pounding his chest with his paw, “We’ll come up with something and roll with it.”

     Weaselton looked back up towards the house, in the direction of Clawhauser. He frowned. “...Why do you keep him around, by the way?”

     “...Uh, who?”

     “Polka-Dots,” Weaselton said. “What’s he good for?”

     Lionheart limply shrugged, pulling the flask from his breast pocket. He mindlessly unscrewed the cork.

     “...He’s, uh...he’s my coin purse,” he mumbled quickly, tipping the flask back into his mouth.

     The sound of tiny hooves rapidly skittering on cobblestone approached from the path above. Lionheart and Weaselton followed their ears to see Bellwether quickly approaching, her face contorted in excitement. She held a hoof over her mouth, her chest jiggling with laughter. She came to a stop above them and gave a quick look behind her, back towards the house.

     “Wh--what is it?”

     Bellwether grinned at them maniacally, trying to stifle her giggles. _“He’s done it!”_ she wheezed happily, _“He’s actually--Bogo, he’s, he’s done it, he’s all dressed up--”_

     “Wh--he _is_?” Lionheart said, “He’s--he’s going to--”

     “He’s on his way to see her right now,” said Bellwether, “You’ve _got_ to come see him--”

     “Has he g--the yellow stockings, the cross-gartering--”

     “Yes, yes, _all_ of it!” Bellwether squealed, “Come, _quick,_ before we miss it!”

     Lionheart and Weaselton tore into the hill, climbing up desperately on all fours to the paved path at the top. Bellwether stuck out a paw and hauled Weaselton up as Lionheart clumsily rolled over his shoulder onto the walkway. Weaselton and Bellwether took off towards the house, as Lionheart awkwardly floundered about, trying to regain his balance to stand up.

     “W--wait for--slow down, I don’t--wait!”


	16. Midsummer Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye gets an unexpected guest

     “His name is  _ Jack _ ”, Skye enunciated, “ _ Jack... _ something,  _ Sacker, Salinger,  _ something with an ‘S’--anyways,  _ he’s _ the Duke’s  _ page _ . I want you to tell him that I would like him to return here to see me. But  _ just  _ him, not with the Duke, or with other servants-- _ he’s _ the only one I’m inviting back. Do you understand?”

     Otterton slowly nodded, leaning away from Skye’s muzzle. “Y-Yes,” she said, “That--yes, madam.”

     “You’ll know him when you see him,” Skye continued, bending down even further. “He’s gray, with these, sharp, accentuated... _ beautiful _ black stripes on his cheeks, you can’t miss him.”

     “I-- _ stripes _ , madam?”

     “I--what did I just say? Did I say stripes?”

     “Well, I--yes, madam. Sorry, madam.”

     “Okay, good, that’s what I thought…”

     “My lady,” a young skunk piped up from behind, “I know that this is important, but if you want your new gown to fit, you  _ must _ straighten up to get these measurements right…”

     Skye rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. She stood up and threw her arms back out with a huff. The tape measures quickly reappeared, and the sewists went back to work. Skye stood still as the tapes wrapped around her waist, her shoulders, and neck. Otterton took a step toward her.

     “But, madam, what--what if I can’t find him?” Otterton said, “What if he’s not there?”

     “...Well, I don’t know why he  _ wouldn’t _ be,” Skye spat, lifting her chin higher to make room for the spare paws and tape measures, “...I don’t know, you’ll think of something, just--he needs to get that message, alright?”

     Otterton politely bowed. “Yes, my lady…”

     She straightened up and carefully walked around the other servants busy with Skye. She tiptoed to the door at the back of the room, Skye’s instructions running through her mind. She watched the sewists meticulous work as she gently grabbed the handle and opened the door. 

     She turned around, and she was suddenly nose to nose to Bellwether.

     “Oh! I’m sorry--”

     “No! No it’s alright, just--I need to--lemme squeeze by you, real quick--”

     “Oh! Otterton?”

     Otterton looked up at Skye, still on the pedestal with arms outstretched. Her eyebrows shot up.

     “Yes, madam?”

     “Let him know that-- _ sweet cHEESE And _ \-- _ watch it _ with those paws down there, would you--let him know that I’m sorry for my past actions?” Skye said. “Tell him that nothing like that will--that I _ promise _ that nothing like that will happen again, and he needn’t be anxious or hesitant about returning. Does that make sense?”

     “Yes ma’am,” Otterton said, “I’ll make sure to tell him that…”

     Otterton pushed past Bellwether and slipped out. Bellwether shakily straightened her glasses and stepped further into the room.

     “Um...my--my lady--”

     “Oh! Bellwether!” Skye called happily over her shoulder, her chin twisting awkwardly to look at her, “Perfect, I was just about to call you, I was going to ask for your advice; what do you think I could lure him back in with?”

     “Wh--I’m sorry?”

     “Jack, I mean,” Skye continued, “Do you think food would be good, or clothes, or--what do you think would win him over, because obviously,  _ I _ wasn’t enough--”

     “Madam, I--I hate to interrupt,” Bellwether said, “But there’s something I need to talk to you about…”

     “I--alright,  _ fine _ ,” Skye said, “But make it quick, because this is important…”

     Bellwether sighed. “Madam, it’s Mr. Bogo.”

     Skye’s brow furrowed. “...Alright” she said, “What about him?”

     “Well, I-I’m very worried about him,” Bellwether stammered, “He’s been acting  _ very _ strange lately, and being very... _ odd _ towards other servants, to the point where I’m quite concerned about him...and frankly, I’m also a bit  _ frightened _ by his recent actions…”

     “What do you mean?” Skye asked distractedly, moving her arms where the sewists gestured, “What has he been doing?”

     “I...well, you’re about to see for yourself,” Bellwether said, “He’s on his way right now.”

     The sewists stopped. 

     Skye turned around. She stared at Bellwether.

_      “What?” _ Skye said. “What do you--I’m not ready to see anyone right now, can you tell him to  _ wait _ a little bit?”

     “I can’t,” she said, “He won’t listen to me.”

     “Well...Bellwether, I’m currently in a  _ corset _ and  _ bloomers _ \--”

_      “I know,” _ said Bellwether, “But  _ he’s coming. _ ”

     The other servants looked at Skye. There was a painful silence.

     Skye snapped her fingers and pointed at the wardrobe in the corner.

     “Get me a dressing gown.”

     The servants scattered. A black, flowy gown was quickly thrown over Skye’s shoulders and tied around her waist as she stepped down from the pedestal. She walked towards the opposite end of the room, straightening out her sleeves.

     The room suddenly went very,  _ deadly _ quiet, as the door creaked back open.

     “Mr. Bogo,” Skye said, turning around, “You better tell me what’s--”

     Bogo stood leaning on his elbow in the doorway, his legs crossed. Up his legs rose bright, obnoxious, canary-yellow stockings, with black laces criss-crossing up his shins and calves to the base of his kneecaps. Over his shirt was a yellow vest, his black ascot billowing out from the top. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

     His manic, giddy, and agonized teeth shone through his brightly smiling lips.

     Skye’s throat clamped shut, her mouth still gaping open.

     “ _ Hello,  _ sweet lady…”

     Bogo casually stood up from the doorframe. He slowly sauntered in, his hooves resting awkwardly in his vest pockets. Skye watched in silent horror as he strolled over to the couch, kicked out his leg with a flourish, and seductively placed his foot on the arm. He leaned comfortably into the lunge.

     Skye swallowed forcefully, her eyes wide.

     “ _...Mr. Bogo,” _ she managed,  _ “...May I--may I ask why you’re  _ smiling _?” _

     “...Smiling?” he said, “Well, I can  _ not _ smile, if you so please. Anything for  _ you _ , my dear...”

     Skye carefully eyed Bellwether at the door. Bellwether stood in the corner with her hooves clamped over her mouth, her wide eyes darting back and forth.

_      “...Mr. Bogo,” _ Skye warbled,  _ “Are you feeling alright?” _

     “Well, my darling, to be quite honest,” Bogo said cheerily, rubbing his leg, “These laces are quite tight, and I believe I’m starting to go numb in my feet...but, that was how it was written...and we all know who did the writing…”

     Bogo carefully slid over the arm of the couch until he was straddling it. He gingerly pulled his other leg over, until he was sitting stiffly on the cushions. He melted into an alluring pose with as much grace as he could manage.

     Skye took a slow, cautious step back.

     “Now, Mr.  _ Bogo _ ,” she said, “Don’t you think you should...you should go to bed?”

     Bogo’s eyebrows shot up. “ _ ‘Go to bed’ _ ?” he repeated incredulously, “Well, my dear, I didn’t realize you would be so  _ forward  _ with the matter...I see that you’ve prepared for me as I’ve prepared for you…”

     Skye tightened the robe around herself. 

_      “Excuse _ me?”

     “You wrote it yourself,” he said, standing from the couch, “Don’t you remember? I have it memorized word for word…”

     He slowly approached her. Skye inched backwards, eyes wide.

     “What are you talking about?”

     “ _ ‘Some are born great’ _ \--”

     “What?”

     “ _ \--‘some achieve greatness’-- _ ”

     “What is this?!”

     “-- _ ‘and some have greatness THRUST UPON THEM’!!! _ ”

     Bogo giddily lunged for her, his arms outstretched. Skye screamed and ducked away. Bogo stumbled forward and crashed straight into the wardrobe. Splinters and shards of wood exploded in all directions as Bogo collapsed into piles of fabric and feathers. The sewists squealed and ran towards the corner of the room. Bogo dazedly struggled on the ground, tugging at the dresses and gowns tangled around him.

_      “OUT!”  _ Skye yelled from behind the couch,  _ “GET HIM OUT! I WANT HIM--LEO! UNCLE LEO, HELP, I’M--BELLWETHER, GET LIONHEART IN HERE!!!” _

     Right on cue, Lionheart appeared from the hall, the best expression of stoicness he could manage plastered to his face. Weaselton trailed in behind him, equally heroic.

     “Where is the devil?!” Lionheart cried out, to no one in particular, “I’ll straighten him out! I don’t care if every demon in hell has attached themselves to him, I’ll--

     “What happened?” said Weaselton, “Where is he?”

     Skye leapt to her feet and threw herself around Lionheart’s waist with a wail. Lionheart raised his arms away from her, bewildered.

_      “Oh, Uncle Leo!” _ she sobbed into his stomach,  _ “Bogo’s gone  _ mad, _ I don’t--he’s wearing strange things, he was trying to flirt with me, he--” _

_      “Flirt _ with you?” Lionheart gasped, “Your own  _ butler????? _ ”

     “I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she continued, “Please, just--get him out of here, and get him some help. Take him to the doctor, the preist, the--I don’t know, just  _ not here!” _

     Bogo sat up, his face blanketed in a velvet cloak. He yanked his arms back and forth, trying to free himself from a whalebone hoopskirt wedged around his middle. Lionheart gently stroked the top of Skye’s head.

     “Of course, my dear,” he said, “I’ll take care of the scoundrel, I--don’t you worry--”

     “I don’t know what happened to him--”

     “I know, I know,” he said, “Why d--erm, go to your room, my dear, go get some rest. This must have been a--a very frightening ordeal…”

     Lionheart looked up at the other servants and quickly gestured to Skye, a sympathetic look on his face. The servants flocked to Skye and pulled her away, talking to her very gently, and carefully ushered her out of the room. Lionheart craned his neck, and he watched them as they marched down the hallway.

     Bellwether shut the door.

     Lionheart turned at looked down at Weaselton. His lips curled into an ecstatic grin.  _ “This is where the REAL fun begins,” _ he mouthed quietly.

     Lionheart walked over to the undulating, grunting pile of clothes in the corner of the room. He placed his paws on his knees and crouched down.

     “Mr. Bogo,” Lionheart sang, calling into the dark, “Can you hear me in there?”

     The velvet cloak twisted.  _ “What?”  _ a muffled voice spat angrily,  _ “Who is that?” _

     “Wh--it’s me, Sir Lionheart,” he answered, “Don’t you recognize my voice?”

_      “What th--get out of here! I don’t want to talk to you--” _

     Lionheart gasped. “Oh,  _ listen _ to that devil inside him,” he stage-whispered loudly to Bellwether and Weaselton, “It’s got a hold on him alright!”

_      “What are you talking about?” _

     “Stay strong, Bogo!” Lionheart called to him again, “Don’t succumb! Don’t--fight against the evil inside you!”

_      “Shut up! Stop with your--your babbling--” _

     “Oh my  _ goodness! _ ” said Bellwether, a stifled smile on her face, “He won’t hear you talk badly of the devil!”

     “Ohhhh, he’s got him good,” Weaselton said, “It’s gonna take a lot to save him from this one…”

     “This is clearly beyond me,” Lionheart recited to the room. “I must find a priest for our poor fellow here--”

_      “You idiot! I don’t need a--GET ME OUT OF THIS--” _

     “But Sir Lionheart,” said Bellwether, “Whatever shall we  _ do _ with him while we fetch the priest?”

     “...Well, wait a second, fellas,” Weaselton said, “Don’t we have that old abandoned gardening shed on the south side of the property?”

* * *

_      “LET GO OF ME THIS INSTANT! I DEMAND TO BE--” _

     Lionheart tossed Bogo--still bound in the hoopskirt--into the dank and dusty shed, dust billowing from his heavy landing in the dirt. He sputtered and writhed angrily on the ground, trying to sit up. 

     Weaselton slammed the door shut. Lionheart hooked the padlock onto the latch and clicked it closed.

     “We’ll be back with help, Bogo!” Lionheart called, “Stay strong! You can fight it!”

     Garbled yelling answered from within. Lionheart stifled a snicker as he quickly turned away and dashed back up towards the garden. Bellwether and Weaselton followed behind, fists clamped in their mouths. The three of them breached back into the garden and collapsed on the ground, bursting into hysteric laughter. They lay there for minutes, gasping for air with their arms clamped heavily around their waists. Lionheart took a deep breath and wiped a tear from his eye.

     “Oh, this isn’t real!” Weaselton strained through his laughter, rolling onto his side, “This  _ can’t  _ be real!”

     Lionheart burst into a new bout of giggles, heartier than the last. Bellwether sat up and removed her glasses, wiping her cheeks.

     “Oh, god, I’m crying,” she slurred giddily, “I’m--I’m actually crying…”

     “He really believes it!” Lionheart said, clutching his chest, “He d--all of it! Did you see the way he looked--”

     “Where did he get all of that?!” Bellwether cackled, “I had no idea he had that vest in his closet--”

     “This is perfect!” Lionheart shouted, “This absolutely--Bellwether, you brought this all together, you d--you--I, I could  _ kiss _ you!” 

     Bellwether and Lionheart laughed. They looked over at each other, giddy, and their eyes met.

     They went silent.

     The smiles slowly began to fade.

     There was a long silence.

     Weaselton slowly sat up and looked at Lionheart, stonefaced.

     “You  _ what? _ ”

     Lionheart cleared his throat--a little too loud--and sat up. “Wi--uh, just th’exp--expression of speech, figure of speech, have you never heard that before, that, the, the expression? I didn’t really mit--uh, mean it, I just--I, I need, uh, I need to see where Clawhauser is, make sure he didn’t probusly--accidentally stab himself with one of those rapiers, I’ll, I’ll be...one moment…”

     Lionheart lifted himself to his feet, brushed himself off, and briskly headed off towards the house. Weaselton watched as he stumbled over a knot in the grass. He cussed to himself.

     Weaselton turned back to look at Bellwether.

     She sat in the grass with wide eyes following Lionheart, her face about twenty shades of red.


	17. A Savage Appearance (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy just cannot catch a break

     Nicholas Wilde was absolutely, positively, _not_ having gay thoughts, whatsoever. In any way shape or form, forever and always, end of story, period.

     What had happened yesterday was just an exception. An outlier. It _must_ have been. He must’ve been feverish, or sleep deprived, or drunk, or something else entirely.

     Nick had _never_ felt that way before.

     He was obviously not in his right mind.

     He had not seen Jack for the past day. He had instructed his other servants to pass on a message to him; once he had completed the delivery to Skye, he could take the rest of the day off. Nick had needed some time away from him, and God knows he wouldn’t have been able to tell him to take the day off face to face.

     What Nick needed was time to think.

 _A lot_ of time to think.

     However, lying there face-up in the warm water of the bath, his thoughts kept circling back to the incident from yesterday. No matter how hard he stared at the ceiling, trying to count the cracks in the marble, that pestering thought played on repeat in his head, like a broken record.

     Maybe he should ask for Jack to resume duties as usual. Would that break the ice?

     But that could make it _worse_ , though. He would have to face him, head on.

     Was he supposed to just pretend like yesterday had never happened? No, that would be inconsiderate, and make things awkward. He could also hurt Jack’s feelings. Would Jack be hurt if he just brushed the whole thing off? He didn’t want to make him upset. Jack was usually such a happy person, and Nick didn’t want to do anything to change that. Whenever Nick was with him, he was always smiling. It was so genuinely content and optimistic. Whenever Nick saw it, he would always get this little feeling in his stomach, like…

 _Nicholas Wilde was absolutely, positively,_ not _having gay thoughts,_ _whatsoever_ _._

     Nick stood up. Water spilled and trickled onto the stone tile floor as he stepped out of the bathtub. He shook himself off, spraying water across the room. He grabbed his towel from the sink counter and began to dry himself.

     He was just going to have to suck it up and talk to Jack about it.

     Nick gave his head one last rub with the towel, then held the towel out for Jack to--

     Wait.

     That’s right.

     Nick looked awkwardly about the room, searching for a place to put the towel. Where were you supposed to _put_ towels when you were done with them?

     Nick slowly balled the towel up in his hands, supplying him with a sizeable sphere. He then apprehensively placed it on the floor next to the bathtub. He stared at it for a moment.

     Nick quickly threw on his robe and walked out, fleeing the scene of the crime.

* * *

     Judy lay splayed out on her bed, the fatigue already settling into her limbs. She could feel the dark circles beginning to form under her eyes, and her arms and legs felt like they were sinking into the mattress. She could practically hear her heartbeat in her head.

     Her blood pressure couldn’t take any more of this.

     These foxes were going to kill her. That was just a fact, and she had come to terms with it. At this point, it was just trying to predict who would be the first to get there.

     The past 24 hours had been the most emotionally taxing that Judy had experienced in years. She wanted to just sink into the mattress and dissolve for a couple hours...or millenia, even. Everything was falling apart, and she hadn’t a single clue how to fix it all.

     Jack would know what to do.

     Judy clamped her eyes shut. She sighed.

     Jack had always been there for Judy if she had ever needed help with something; if she had needed advice, if she had needed to vent, or even if it had been just to talk, she could have always turned to him. And the same went for the opposite; there had been many a time in her life when she would have gone to Jack with a problem, and he would have come to her with one, and they had worked it out together.

     She could have really used that right now.

     There was a brisk knock at the door, causing Judy to jump.

     There was a beat.

     Judy leapt off of the bed and ran to the desk in the corner of the room. She plucked her white cotton shirt from the back of the chair and tossed it over her head. She cleared her throat.

     “Yes?” she called.

     She blindly reached for her coat. All her paw caught was air.

     Judy popped her head through the collar of her shirt and looked down at the chair. Her coat wasn’t there. She turned around and looked back to her bed. There was nothing but sheets.

     There was another brisk knock at the door.

     “One moment!” Judy quickly shouted. She dropped to the floor and peered under her desk.

 _“Oh, no, it’s okay”_ Honey’s muffled voice said from behind the door, _“I just wanted to make sure you were in there.”_

     Judy felt her shoulders loosen a little, her cheek still pressed against the floor.

     “Oh,” she said. “Okay.”

 _“I was just told to come find you,”_ Honey continued, _“And to tell you that Nick wants to meet with you_ . _”_

     Judy’s heart stopped.

     “...Uhhhh...alright!” she called back to the door, “I’ll, uh...I’ll be there in a second, just...I need a minute. I’ll be on my way shortly.”

     Judy leapt to her feet and dashed to the wardrobe in the corner. She flung it open to see an array of old, dusty clothes.

 _“Alright,”_ Honey said, _“I’ll let him know.”_

     Judy cradled her head in panic. This was her _only_ uniform; it was the only one that had fit her out of all the uniforms they had when she arrived. There wasn’t any other way to get around this. She couldn’t walk out in just her shirt; not only would it be unprofessional, but also, the loose, billowy shirt did not do much for compression. Also, the clothes she had first arrived in had been Snarlov’s; she had sent them back to him shortly after she was hired.

     Judy dropped back to the floor and grabbed the sheets of the bed. She lifted them up and looked underneath the bed frame.

     Her red coat lay on the floor in a lightly crumpled mess.

     Judy yanked it out from underneath the bed and leapt to her feet. She gave the coat a couple swats, sending some residual dust into the air, then threw it over her shoulders. She turned back towards the desk and checked her stripes in the mirror as she clasped her way up towards the collar.

     Her heart was racing. She hadn’t even _seen_ Nick since yesterday. What was this going to be about? Was he going to ask how the meeting with Skye had gone? Was he going to confront her about what happened with _him_ yesterday?

     Judy couldn’t decide which of the two she dreaded more.

* * *

     How _did_ one sit on a couch normally?

     It was something that Nick had never really thought about before, until this very moment, and it was now driving him absolutely _up the wall_. He couldn’t find a position that conveyed that he was relaxed, yet confident. Everything felt awkward and forced.

     He frowned and adjusted his ascot. He looked nervously about the room at the other servants, standing at attention. He glanced over at Finnick, standing guard at the door. Finnick’s eyes went to his.

     Nick immediately looked away.

     He sat in uncomfortable silence.

     Suddenly, Nick cleared his throat.

     “Can you go get some wine?”

     Finnick turned his head.

     “...Wine?”

     “Yes. Some wine.”

     Finnick blinked. “What...what kind would you _like_?”

     “I dunno, just...maybe...maybe something red, just...some wine. I don’t care.”

     Finnick stared at him. Nick quickly glanced at him, then quickly averted his eyes.

     “...Um...alright. Sure.”

     Finnick looked to one of the servants and snapped his fingers. The hyena in the corner of the room quickly walked to the nearest door and slipped out of the room.

     Nick, at this very moment, wished to get dragged along the road by his ankles, attached to a carriage. He knew that it would have been better than sitting still on this couch.

     He looked down at his lap and began to pick absentmindedly at the embroidery of his dressing gown. He let out a slow, concentrated gust of air.

 _Nicholas Wilde was_ _absolutely_ _,_ **_positively_ ** _,_

* * *

     Judy was just about ready to leap out the window.

     When she took this job, she had wanted to earn money to help repair the ship, so she could get to Terrafossida and live with her uncle. She did _not_ sign up to be involved in a love triangle with two beautiful, wealthy, self-entitled, _violently_ eccentric members of the aristocracy. At this point, no amount of money would be enough to help to repair her emotional state.

     Judy reached another fork in the hallway. She stopped for a moment, and went through the pathway to the drawing room once again in her head. She shut her eyes in heavy thought, tracing an imaginary line. After a moment, she nodded to herself.

_“...Okay.”_

     She took the hall on the left.

     It had been about two weeks, and Judy still wasn’t quite used to this labyrinth that was the mansion. There were rooms that lead to rooms that lead to rooms. It was absolutely ridiculous. She couldn’t wrap her head around how _anyone_ would need this much space, divided into _so many_ specific rooms. Who in the world had built this house, let alone _design_ it in the first place?

     Judy rounded the corner, and slammed dead on into a tray of wine.

     Wine glasses shattered, yelps were made, and alcohol came raining down. The bottle itself slipped off of the tray and smashed on the ground, spraying and spewing deep red wine across the white tile floor. Judy’s foot slipped out from under her, and she smacked wetly onto her back. She inhaled sharply through clenched teeth. The hyena standing above her gasped.

     “...Oh...my gosh,” the hyena said in a trembling voice, “I am _so sorry…_ ”

     The hyena quickly placed the tray on the ground and grabbed Judy’s paw. She felt a squelch as she sat up, and could already feel the wine dripping down her neck and onto her back.

     “...No, it’s alright,” she groaned, “I wasn’t...I wasn’t paying attention--”

     “I don’t think either of us were,” the hyena said, lifting Judy to her feet. Suddenly, he raised a panicked paw to his mouth. “Oh no,” he said quietly, “Your _clothes_!”

     Judy looked down. She looked as if she had just had her throat slit. There was a deep, dark red covering her from her shoulders drifting all the way down towards her stomach. She could already feel it seeping into her shirt, both on her front and back.

     “What the hell was--”

     Judy and the hyena turned to see Finnick at the end of the hall. His eyes darted about the scene, taking in everything. His face slowly went from frightened concern to a very, _very_ tired look of frustration. He sighed and rubbed his eyes with a paw.

     “Sweet cheese and--alright,” he said, “Jack, go back to your room and change. Orville, go get the cleaning staff and--”

     “I--I can’t.”

     Finnick and Orville looked to Judy. There was a beat.

     “...What?”

     “I...I can’t change.”

     Finnick stared at her. “...What do you--why not?” he asked, “What, what’s the problem?”

     Judy swallowed. “This is my only uniform.”

     Finnick’s brow furrowed. “ _What_?”

     “It was the only one here that fit me,” Judy said, the weight of her words dawning on her as they left her mouth. “I don’t know what to do, because I don’t have any others, and I _know_ I can’t break the dress code--”

     “I--I mean,” Finnick stammered, “I’m sure it would--Jack, you need _clothes_ , you can’t just--this is an exception, I’m sure Nick will understand. Go change into some of your personal clothes, before this starts to stain--”

     “I...I don’t have any.”

     Finnick blinked at her.

     “A friend had lent me an outfit while I was looking for work,” she said quickly, “But I sent all of the items back to him once I got this job.”

     There was a beat. Finnick sighed and rubbed his eyes defeatedly.

     “...So…” Finnick grumbled, “...you have no clothes…”

     “What was all of that?” An approaching voice called from the hallway, “What’s--”

     Nick turned the corner, met eyes with Judy, and froze. Everyone stood there for a moment, completely still. The only sound for a while was simply the periodic dripping of wine from Judy’s clothes. Nick opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

     “He says this is his only uniform,” Finnick said to Nick, “He also said he doesn’t have any other street clothes. I don’t think we have anything else rabbit-sized in the house, I don’t know if--”

     “These are his _only_ clothes?”

     “Yes.”

     Nick looked at Judy again, surveying the damage. He let out a sigh.

     “Alright,” he said, “Well, Jack... _first_ , let’s, uh...let’s get you cleaned up. Get out of those clothes, go and draw yourself a bath, and then--”

     “I ca--I don’t have a bathtub, sir.”

     Nick furrowed his brow.

     “You _don’t_?” he asked incredulously. “Then how have--what have you been--”

     “Dry baths,” Judy said, “With a bucket of water and a sponge. Just like everyone else.”

     Nick looked at her for a moment. “You know what?” he said, “You can use _mine_. Go take a bath in my tub, I’ll supply you with towels, and a robe, and...something. Anything to cover you up with afterwards. Then, you can relax in your room, since this situation...sort of...puts you out of service, temporarily. In the meantime, we’ll track down some clothes for you. We’ll just...we’ll have our talk at another time. Alright?”

     Judy’s head was spinning.

     “...Okay…”

     Nick looked to the hyena. “Mr. Orville,” he said, “Can you show him the way?”

     Orville stared at Nick blankly for a moment. Suddenly, his eyebrows shot up. “Oh!” he said, straightening up, “Of course, I can absolutely--this way, Jack…”

     Orville headed off down the hallway. Judy followed behind, in a light daze.

     Nick craned his neck over his shoulder, making sure that they were out of earshot. He then turned to face Finnick. He placed his paws down on his knees and leaned in close, his eyes bearing into Finnick’s with a fire.

 _“You make sure he has absolutely_ everything _he needs in there_ , _”_ he whispered intensely, _“Fresh towels, hot water, extra soap, all of it. I don’t care if he wants bubbles, bath salts, live music--you treat him like_ royalty _. Is that understood?”_

     Finnick swallowed, a bit taken aback. “Y-Yes sir.”

 _“Also,”_ Nick whispered, reaching into his pocket, _“You send somebody into town, and you get this boy some damn clothes.”_

     Nick flicked a golden coin to Finnick with his thumb. Finnick caught it in his palm.

_“Alright?”_

     “...Of course,” said Finnick, “I’ll--I’ll send someone out as soon as possible.”

     Nick raised his eyebrows and smiled. _“Good.”_

     Nick turned around and walked away, back towards the drawing room. Finnick stared down at the coin in his palm, then back off towards Nick. He looked back down at the wine and glass covered floor.

     He let out a deep sigh.

* * *

     Jack very desperately needed some more clothes.

     All of his luggage had been lost in the wreck, and he had been surviving the past two weeks off of clothes that he had somehow gotten from Manchas (who had been getting them from...well, who _knows_ where). He was getting tired of wearing the same two white cotton shirts and the same pair of brown leather pants every day. He needed something fresh on his body--something that hadn’t been through almost a full day of sea travel.

     On the upside, he had successfully gotten a room at the Rockmill. Woolworth--an elderly ram--had gotten him a cozy one-room suite that resided on the farthest side of the Inn, absolutely free of charge. To be honest, it was actually quite nice; it was definitely a little more upscale than he had been anticipating.

     Jack would feel much more relaxed, he thought, if he was out of these _godforsaken_ clothes.

     Cedar Grove _was_ a cute little stretch of small, family-owned shops and markets, just as Manchas had described to him. There were multiple outdoor kiosks set up, containing fresh food, handmade clothes, and other interesting trinkets that Jack had never quite seen before. There were also many indoor shops and cafés lining the cobblestone street, all of which were very homey and inviting.

     It was almost overwhelming.

     As it was still early afternoon, there were still many mammals roaming about. It definitely wasn’t as busy as the docks had been that morning; there was enough room so that Jack didn’t have to constantly worry about getting trampled, and he could roam around as he pleased without getting in the way of anyone. As he made his way down the street, he began to read through the signs hanging from the sides of the walls, searching for a clothing shop.

     A sharply dressed honey badger came out of the shop in front of him, carrying a collection of clothes on her back. Laying on top was a blue woolen peacoat with golden buttons.

     Interestingly enough, it looked to be about his size.

     The honey badger headed down the street and away from Jack, obviously preoccupied with something. Jack glanced through the window of the building she had just walked out of.

     He saw more copies of the same coat, in his size.

     Jack began to untie the straps of Manchas’ coin pouch from his belt as he stepped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So was that a hiatus or what?
> 
> College. College is insane. I was not prepared for the workload that I was going to take on, so this (along with other projects) kinda took the backseat for a while. While I am happy that I finally got the chance to attack this again, I honestly don't have an estimate for when I'll next get an update in.
> 
> THAT BEING SAID:
> 
> I wholeheartedly plan on finishing this story, through and through. I am not abandoning this piece. You'll just have to be patient with me, and trust that this story WILL be updated until it's finished. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.
> 
> Well, I guess the worst would be me abandoning this work. Which I'm not gonna do. So, I guess, prepare for the mildly inconvenient.
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> -JCP


End file.
